


Fatal Attraction(Vampire!AU)

by Sknow



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abduction, Assassins & Hitmen, Attempted Murder, Biting, Blood Drinking, Cheating, Drama, Dream Sex, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Lilo (at the very end), M/M, Mates, Mind Control, Minor Violence, Murder Mystery, Original Character(s), Painplay, Panic Attacks, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Promiscuity, Revenge, Slow Build, Suspense, Switching, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wordcount: Over 100.000, Zayn's a moody asshole, minor Bloodplay, sad beginning, zarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:21:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 154,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sknow/pseuds/Sknow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he was just a child, infamous vampire hunter Zayn Malik lost his family to a group of merciless vampires, but was spared. Now he’s forced to deal with falling in love with the one thing he despises most in this world. A vampire. One with the blood of royalty running through his veins, who has a beating heart and who may or may not have been involved with the death of Zayn’s family.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A/N: this fic/though completed/ is unedited and quite frankly a mess. Enter at your own risk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How vampires work in my world: every vampire has a human mate. When the vampire finds them, either by looking for them or just by a random run in, it is up to the vampire on their options. 
> 
> They have three choices. 1: turn their mate into a vampire so they could live off each others blood indefinitely, since their mates blood is like a cure all for the vampires. 
> 
> 2: kill their mate, so the vampire can go about taking blood from any stranger they please, if they don’t like them, or if commitment is not what they desire at the time. A new mate will come around in a couple decades or so. 
> 
> Or 3: partially bond with their mate. When the vampire is entranced by their mate but aren’t sure what to do, they won’t kill them, but they do find a way to mark them before flitting off and trying their hand at staying as far away from their mate as possible. 
> 
> There are two stages: acceptance and partial denial. The vampire will suffer according to which way both participants view the relationship. 
> 
> Option 3 is the least favourite option for the vampires because it’s a lousy choice and from then on the vampire will only be able to drink blood the blood type of their mate.  
> The way the blood smells for them is different as well… it smells awful to them because they truly crave for their mates blood. They have a way of picking out who smells better (the correct blood type) to them because all in all, blood that’s not their mate’s smells rancid, but if they do slip up and drink the wrong type of blood they become ill, and vomit the blood back up. 
> 
> They will also do the same whenever their mate is within a 1 mile radius, no matter if it’s the right blood type or not. It can create a blood craze for the vampire and there’s no need to explain how dangerous that could be for the mate and innocent human bystanders.

Saturday, 13 years ago…

 

The night was cool. A bit mucky for the likes of the Bradford community seeing as rain pattered against the slightly withered ceilings of the Malik household.

 

The crooked estate tiredly groaned as it protested against the feisty wind. It had been doing so the last couple days straight. And, while the girls had a particularly nasty attitude about not being able to go out and about for the last couple days, 9 year old Zayn felt as if his prayers had been answered.

 

You see, Zayn hated a lot of things, he hated peas, he hated the way the birds found it so important to open their fucking mouths in the morning, he hated the smell of garbage, he hated dirty clothes, his frenemy Thomas, homework assignments, and bullies, but most of all…drought.

 

Nothing had happened during the summer besides plain old hot and tan inducing sun beams. Yes the sun is wonderful, but christ it made his body smell ten times more than normal, and caused his clothes to stick uncomfortably to his thin frame.

 

And even at his tender age, he knew he saw things differently than others like the simple beauty of a couple drops of morning dew on a shroud of leaves, or the simplicity of the way the clouds above moved when a thunderstorm was approaching…almost everything about water drove him nuts even though he can't swim for shit.

 

If you asked him why, he’d tell you ‘I dunno. Yeh know to be such a colourless artifact, it’s probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’

 

He’s always been that way, that’s why whenever his mum would get off work and carefully maneuver her rusty cherry red Chevy into the muddy pothole they call their drive way--she’d see him sitting on the porch steps, just staring out into the rainfall, but she never says anything.

 

Mind you the ceiling to their porch barely has enough cover to shade sunlight off on a sunny day, but she wouldn’t say a word, not a ‘get your skinny behind in the house Zayn.’ Or a ‘could you at least have put a sweater on.’ Nothing. She’d just smile and gently place a hand on his shoulder before silently entering the house.

 

She never needed to say anything; he knew to look out for suspicious people, that he should come back in before a certain shade of darkness, and that she would have dinner ready after this amount of time. He knew. He didn’t bother about the small stuff like his heath or his wellbeing, not when it was raining, besides he never got sick...ever.

 

So he just lost himself in the way the droplets felt on his tanned skin, and think. That’s why he begged. Yes, he begged and pleaded. He found himself praying to Gods that he didn’t believe in, including ones that he most likely made up on his own in his mind. Because he couldn’t think straight without something to calm his overtly jumpy nerves…he even had to hold himself back a couple times from standing in front of the faucet in the bathroom and from just watching the tap flow.

 

Just a few hours ago he could’ve sworn he heard his mum cleaning the dishes from his dad’s poker night with friends, followed by the tires of their cars splashing the water filled pot holes in the driveway, as they pulled out to leave towards home. It made him smile.

 

So finally he felt nothing but peace as he watched out the windows, doing that thing where he wondered if raindrops had their own stories to tell. Like how he wondered if the same droplet trailing down the wet window had ever trickled down the back of a dinosaur millions of years earlier, if it had ever been sucked up into a tornado before, or even wandered down the wrong pipe of a child’s esophagus before.

 

Yeah, he did that while marveling in the darkness of his bedroom, wrapping himself in the sound of the constant patter against the draw board that eventually lulls him to sleep. Finally every soul in the Malik estate were sound asleep, and if the rats they had tried to poison to death had complaints, they stuffed their tiny little mouths with crumbs and kept quiet about it.

 

So there it was a cool night in the middle of November, rain serenely pelting on the outskirts of the ceiling, while the owners slept like babies with bottles… And just as little Zed reopened his eyes for a moment; he smiled at the clear beautiful rain trickling down the face of his window now, because he knew that nothing could ruin this night for him.

 

 

<><>><<><> 

 

 

The next time he awoke, he felt different. He couldn’t move his eyelids, his clothes were heavy, and his skin cold and wet. The pain gnawing at his backside pulled a frown onto his face, because yeah, their beds were cheap, but they never caused him pain as terrible as this.

 

And the raggedy heater system installed in the home by their less than courageous landlord must have gone out again, but it shouldn’t have been this cold. It wasn’t until the next second that he realized something was terribly wrong, and it wasn’t the putrid taste of rusty blood in his mouth, or the insistent chirping of the stupid birds, which seemed eerily closer this morning, not even the mysterious cold substance that had just dropped onto his forehead a second ago.

 

No, it was his legs. It caused him to shoot bolt upright in his bed and to move his unsteady limbs as fast as possible in order to rub at the unmoving lids of his eyes. When Zayn finally got them to crack open he flinched because there, right under his sore legs wasn’t his bed at all, just cold damp and soft earth.

 

Well...technically it was the soil he and his father put on the floor of his tree house they’d built together a couple months ago. ‘It’ll make it more authentic’ his father assured as he piled it on with a shovel. Plus too much dirt would definitely keep the girls from snooping around in his business. Zayn shook his head and groaned at the knocking pain the motion caused.

 

He stuck his tongue out to wet his chapped lips and immediately frowned again at the taste all around in his mouth. He spat out the copper flavoured substance, but didn’t even bother to look, brushing it off as simply having bitten his lip too hard while he was sleeping (or sleep walling for that matter). Wiping his mouth he looked up at the wooden fortress around him.

 

The tree house they'd built in the woods just beyond their front yard. He looked at the high golden brown ceiling where each plank of rich wood connected and closed spaces tightly tighter. At the wet spot where the drop had fallen on his head earlier, at the diamond shaped back and side windows of the tree house, the window seals newly painted blue as of last week.

 

At the crooked plank next to the fold out table where Zayn had almost smashed his thumb with the hammer. At the scattered drawings spread array the top of the fold out tables along with his color pencils and markers, until his eyes finally settled on the wooden fold out chair he had snuck in from the basement where his father and his buddies played poker on Saturdays.

 

The chair-the one with the rotting wood, and soda stains- was as he left it-tucked into the table- the last time he came up here for peace and quiet, but the line in dirt underneath the chair legs was stretched further than he had ever drawn it from the table. 

The reasoning  being because he was afraid his weight would break the scrawny poor excuse for a chair- for grownups that is.

 

It stopped just near where his head had been laying moments ago. Of course if you had asked him how it and he got there, he’d tell you to piss off because he had no idea. It could have been his sisters, but there was no way they’d go this far just to play a stupid joke, in order to be taking the piss for entire month like he has with them.

 

First of all there was too much mud, and they are in no shape to carry him from their home to the distance where the tree house stood, not to mention the rickety wooden latter they’d have to carry him up.

 

His father could, but even though his mum doesn’t say a word when Zayn watches the storm pouring in over his head, stand stalk still as the rain downright drenched him on the porch some days, she’d skin his father to the blue veins if he’d carried him out in the middle of the night while it’s raining, just to play a prank.

 

This could be a really sick dream, though with how sophisticated he saw himself, he highly doubted it. Maybe he really did sleepwalk.

 

Granted it couldn’t have been something logical because he couldn’t spot a foot print anywhere…not even his own. The only indentation he saw in the fresh dirt was that of where his body was lain a minute ago…yeah, that and the chair legs.

 

Anyway, this entire shenanigan would be too far for a joke, he thought as he stood on wobbly feet- clothes heavy and still wet from when however he had come out into the rainy night- and drug his tired body as fast as he could to wearily poke his head out of the opening of the rectangular opening of the mediocre tree house. Sure enough it wasn’t a dream; he rationalized as he peered blearily at the soft green moss bed at the floor of the latter.

 

The birds made his ears ring as they chirped and chirped and God he wished he had a gun that very second. In fact, the small handgun his father bought his mum for safety precautions would do, he thought as he tried to glare a hole into the various places their chippers and tweets sounded, but shied away from the rather intense sunlight to say it was storming pretty badly that night.

 

Actually after he had gasped and uncovered his eyes, he saw from under the shade of his hand the grey skies through the girth of the tall gangly wooden trees. So maybe it was just his terrible vision acting up again. He twisted his head when a flash of color besides green caught interest in his peripheral, and drew in a deep breath at the sight.

 

Smeared across the wooden planks on both sides of the tree house opening was a dark red substance, to which looked all too similar to what he had spat out minutes before. He knew what it was. From the accidental cuts his mum scarcely received when she’d be cutting food with sharp knives, from his father getting too creative with the handsaw, from Doniya biting her lips too hard, Wiliyha falling from her blue hand- me- down starters bike, from Safaa falling in the playground too much, and from himself slipping and falling off the tree house latter every other day.

 

Flukes; with how many freak accidents and injuries he and his siblings endure weekly, he could detect the smell from a mile away. Blood, yeah he knew what it was, the question is just what the hell was it doing there.

 

Sadly no one near or yonder could answer his question so he did what anyone else with a rational brain would do. Pinched himself. Nope, definitely not a dream.

 

Once he had gotten his feet to settle into the soft dirt of the ground, he began to walk; one of his pale hands moving up to occupy the nape of his neck in order to massage the stiff muscles there. The mud splashing all over his grey cotton sweats and dirt catching beneath the nails of his toes caused him to grumble in irritation, and the simple fact that he was without his trusty glasses hailed the reason he kept stubbing his bare toes, and ALL of it caused him to smirk a little as he strategically went through the satisfying notions of how big the holes he was going to tear into his family members when he got back home.

 

Because how could they not notice he was gone, sure he didn’t really say much or make any noticeable noises unless he was in the mood, but how could they just let him walk right out the door in the middle of the night, if they were responsible how could they leave him out there all night, why not just wake him up after he’d lain there for a good couple of minutes and tell him how and why they did it, just how could they.

 

If they had done it for a good laugh, why not just bring him back after a few minutes because Zayn was anything but oblivious. He knew that what would wake the dead wouldn’t cause him to stir if he was sleeping. Sleep walking would still be logical though, if it weren’t for the lack of telltale footprints so he’ll stick with that one, he thought grumbling as he stepped in yet another crater of mud … Damn that stupid alarm system.

 

Zayn continued to grunt, piss and moan until the air got all funny.

 

He wasn’t making much progress due to his groggy body, but he halted movements all together when he breathed in the heavy air and began to cough.

 

‘the fuck’ he swore, wheezing in as much air as his exhausted lungs allowed, but was only rewarded with another fit of coughs….maybe he was finally catching a cold. Whatever it was it caused him to ignore the soreness of his entire body and increase his movements.

 

Once he made it half way through the distance between the tree house and home, he stopped dead for the second time in last day before breaking out into a run ignoring the increased stubbing and low branches whacking his face every now and again, because surely he couldn’t have seen what he’d seen billowing over the trees of the woods.

 

The black clouds had to have been from another storm rolling in, and he prayed. Prayed as much as he did the last couple of months, tried to fit it into the mere seconds he had before he reached the clearing of the woods before their front yard.

 

He prayed that he was concussed, prayed that he was hallucinating and that he had suddenly gained a bout of psychosis. If what he saw was true, that they had gotten out, that if it was true that it wasn’t that bad because there was no way he could have been spared if someone were to die. He prayed, and prayed, and prayed, and…… Stopped at the clearing.

 

No. he thought.

 

Yes. Because what he had thought and prayed wasn’t happening precisely fit the terror inducing image before him that had brought him to his knees.

 

For a few seconds the young boy closed his eyes in sheer disbelief, but forced them open the very next second for what no doubt was confirmation.

 

There, across the street, not 40 yards from where he kneeled was his home, the place where he had formed memories he swore that very second that he never forget, as tears fat tears rolled down his puffing cheeks.

 

The warm blue crooked thing he called his house was cast set of dying flames. Yeah the flames were dying but the goring damage had already been done. The house had been secured that night, not mentioning the lack of help due to the stupid security system, he and his dad ‘the men of the house.’, had locked down every corner, covered every knock and cranny before signing off to sleep.

 

And as Zayn peered up at Waliyha and Safaa’s window, he noticed that it must have stayed that way throughout the night because he’d be lying to himself if he tried to convince anybody that it wasn’t shut as if it were sealed. He looked away when he could clearly see the poisonous toxic fumes clouding against the paint splattered windows.

 

He winced at the sudden blast of white noise he heard and swayed unsteadily in the stance and strain he’d put on his bony knees. Surely he was going to faint he thought as the words “this can’t be happening, don’t believe it.” repeatedly reprimanded like a mantra though slow works of his brain.

 

His eyes immediately taking refuge at the half blackened front door, which too was ‘closed tighter than tick’s ass’, as his father claimed last night as he locked it. It was then that he noticed the fire fighters trying their best to knock it down.

 

There were men dressed in yellow protective gear everywhere in fact, some were spraying water hoses at the top of the house, some trying to break into the security barrier that was his father’s handy work, others holding back the crowd of neighbors who stood in a large circle holding their mouths in shock and whatnot.

 

His house, his life, his home charred to a large hunk of crisp. And more and more unwelcome tears rolled down his face as he caught sight of the driveway. In their rightful parking spots stood both his parents cars. His mums rusty cherry red Chevy and his father’s black Sedan he had promised to Doniya when she was older and got her license.

 

They were there untouched and covered in stray raindrops, with the tires almost buried in the dirty water that filled the pot holes where they stood stationary.

 

‘ZAYN!’ he heard someone shout his name, but opted to ignore it.

 

Because he didn’t want to talk, and because all the white noise had gone and he could hear everything. The siren wailing and threatening to permanently damage that of his eardrums, the sickening sound of the streaking water hose hitting different planes and ruins of his home, the chatter amongst the people who tried instigating their thoughts on what happened to cause the blazing fire, the yells of the fire men, the sounds of more fire trucks approaching the estate, the gear they had retrieved to knock down the solid state that was their front door, thunder rumbling from above, pattering footsteps.

 

At the moment it was everything he didn’t want to hear so he simply closed his eyes and crumbled in on himself.

 

He thought ‘why?’ over and over again, but refused to let himself cry like a wimp the bullies at school teased him for being. At least until he heard the screaming of his name again.

 

‘ZAYN! ZAAYYYNNNN!’ a voice screamed. A woman, he realized and then her voice was right above him.

 

‘Zayn. Hey honey. Are you alright sweetheart?’

 

No answer.

 

‘Come on love, say something.’ She pleaded and then suddenly he recognized her voice and opened his eyes.

 

It was his mums close friend from London and their neighbour Mrs. Patts. And at the moment she was nothing short of an angel to Zayn because she was someone familiar, someone he’s known since birth.

 

The middle aged woman pulled him to his feet and crouched down to his height so she could gently wipe his cheeks free from whatever she saw. He tried to focus on her face rather than the underlying fact that his family was under no exceptions dead in their beds right now.

 

He looked at the faint mustache over her top lip, at the blue speck of polish paint stuck between her gum and teeth due to the fact that she had been biting her nails before she noticed him, at the smudged eye liner she must have forgotten to take off before she went to sleep, at the brown deepness of her almond shaped eyes, at the large black mole above her right eye that Safaa couldn’t stop herself from giggling at whenever she had seen it, at the tears forming in those warm loving eyes.

 

He looked at everything but the house.

 

‘Are you alright, love?’

 

A short shake of his head.

 

‘Are you hurt or bleeding then?’ She tried

 

Another shake.

 

A small frown probably due to the same confusion Zayn had appeared above her eyes, before a small sob escaped her lips ‘Zayn. What happened? How did you get out Zayn, tell me.’ her eyes were frantic and she was just as desperate for answers as he was.

 

He could feel the tiny wall he had built up start to crack as she interrogated him. So he bit rather harshly into his bottom lips to hold back the tears threatening to spill over like a continuous river flow.

 

‘Where’d you come from, is your family with you? Come on love, talk to me.’ she was pleading but stopped short when she finally noticed the look on his face. Her brow furrowed again before understanding clouded her expression.

 

All it took was the feel of her arms wrapping around his small trembling body to make the barely there wall crack and his tears to spill over like water from a dam. It was then that he sobbed; the sob so powerful that it shook both his and her bodies. The noise that he made terrified him to no end, because he had never known he could make it before.

 

In fact he couldn’t even remember the last time he had cried for any reason.

 

He never shed a tear, not when his mum cut onions, not when he got teased relentlessly for being ‘weird’ by bullies in school, not when he had gotten into fights at the school defending his family’s name, not when he’d hear about the nasty things Thomas would say behind his back just moments before he’d come and sit down next to him, and plead with him to do another drawing of him so he could show his other friends.

 

Not when he had gotten jumped that day after school when no one was around…he hadn’t even made a whimper as the group of boys repeatedly kicked his torso, not when he had accidently hit himself in the eye with that wooden bat his father had given to him one of his birthdays, in hopes that Zayn would pick up a career and play for his favourite team one day, he had successfully received a black eye from the bat, but it went missing soon enough anyway.

 

He didn’t even cry when he had fallen so far out the tree house one day, he had broken his leg so bad you could see the white bone protruding from it. And through his father was surprise that he was taking it like a man, his sisters squealing and crying because they were sure Zayn would die from the wound, his mum trying to calm the girls between cursing his father for smiling at Zayn and swearing through her teeth that Zayn would never step foot near that tree house again.

 

Zayn was as cool as a cucumber.

 

So there Zayn was in Mrs. Patts arms crying with total confusion, though he was sure between the two of them she was far more alarmed, but with vague understanding. Zayn had heard the stories a million times from his mum telling him, and to her friends that no matter what he had never cried.

 

He remembered three years ago when his mum, had that girly get together with friends. When they had begun to bond over their children she had been telling her girlfriends that even the day of his birth, he didn’t cry.

 

She said the doctor who delivered him just picked up the quiet boy and slapped his bum a few times. And after she let out a fit a giggles she finally said that Zayn just stared at the man with a ‘why are you hitting me?’ look on his tiny little face.

 

It was probably due to the fact that she does terrible impressions that everyone would then laugh and start pulling at Zayn’s cheeks. Mrs. Patts was there. She had always been there for as long as he remembered. So she knew that this was a moment where perhaps she should tread lightly. That’s why she shut up and held him without any more antagonizing questions.

 

She held him tightly as she let the fat tears she had been holding in for his sake silently roll down her cheeks, and pulled him tighter as the sound of the firemen trying to break down the caused his body to jolt every time the bulky object came into contact with the charred door.

 

Through the blur of his tears he could see the fire men trying to hack it down with the ax his father left in tree stump somewhere behind the back of the house. He could see some of the people along with his parents’ acquaintances, if they hadn’t already, were starting to pay attention to Mrs. Patts and notice his presence.

 

The water hose seemed to have put out all the flames he could see, but the hose continued to spray making the water ricochet off the blackened planes of the house, falling onto some of the on lookers, most of who were still in their pajamas.

 

Zayn could hear the thunder claps becoming more frequent just before the awaiting rain began to lightly fall in a misty form, his favourite. And though Zayn would love to think that even the heavens were mourning the loss of his parents, his family, his foundation, his childhood, he had never hated the rain more.

 

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever draw peace from it again, in fact at the moment the concept of peace was all too foreign and left a funny taste in his mouth. Another huge sob raked Zayn’s body before he noticed that one of the firemen that had been trying break down their front door was staring over at them. Like he wanted something. Unable to even try to form words, Zayn closed his eyes for a moment before tugging on Mrs. Patts robe.

 

She pulled back and gave him a questioning look, receiving a small shaky nod from Zayn to the direction of the curious fireman. As soon as the fireman caught her eye he waved at her beckoning them to come over there where he stood which was right in front of the now gaping crowd of people staring in disbelief at Zayn.

 

Mrs. Patts slowly rose to full height giving there man a swift nod before turning back to Zayn and bending to his height again.

 

‘Alright love, are you ready for this.’

 

All Zayn did was hiccup and shrug.

 

‘We’re about go over there and speak with the fireman in charge, but let me do the talking.’

 

No response

 

‘listen Zed, I know you’re hurting, I may not be as small, or as young as you are, but I know a bit about what you’re going through love. You can’t shut me out at time like this. You don’t have to do this alone yeah?’

 

He took a deep breath and gave her the best smile he could pull albeit a watery one and nodded

 

‘Good.’ She said smiling in return. She made to get up but then immediately ducked back down ‘and Zayn, this is a critical time for you, if he asks you questions about anything, you don’t have to answer them yet okay?’

 

Another shaky nod and that was enough for her so she stood up to full height again before stretching and picking Zayn up so that his legs could wrap firmly around her waist. She waited until he buried his face in her neck before staring in the direction of the house.

 

Zayn let himself watch as she crossed the black pavement of the street in front of the house and onto the sidewalk. She must have felt the silent tears on her neck, because she gently rubbed at his back. Zayn held onto Mrs. Patts with his life as she passed through two of the three large fire trucks parked at the curb of the side walk in front of the house, the sirens making his ears ring with fierceness.

 

And it was because Zayn knew that had this been on different circumstances he would have been a child with sparkles in his eyes at the sight of so many fire trucks, so much action, he had remembered telling his mum that he’d wanted to be a fireman, the day his father gave him that lost bat.

 

He had played with it only to make his father proud, but admittedly, he had hit himself in the eye with it just so his mother could ban it to the top of his closet shelf where he couldn’t reach it. So really, no one could blame him for losing it, since he couldn’t reach, and when his father had come home the very next day, and tried to sneak it down so he could show Zayn, who would be watching with his one good eye, ‘how it’s done’, he nor Zayn had no answers for where it could have gone.

 

It’s not like he mourned the loss of the wooden lug of crap, because he wanted to be a fireman after all. And when he told his mum she just smiled and tell him that he’d be a good one, but never really dwelled on the subject because in the next hour he would want to be a hobbit from Lord of The Rings, or a police man, or captain of a Militia fleet, or the strongest robot in the world.

 

Duh Megatron.

 

A hiccup escaped him as he thought of the costumes his mother would make him from scratch clothing Doniya didn’t need or couldn’t fit anymore. The cardboard robot they had spent hours on colouring, all but forgotten about in the cool basement behind his father’s poker table.

 

Every costume, every memory, and every book and toy he and the girls had to share, now melted and probably burned to ashes. So he buried his face in her neck again and God bless this lovely woman, because she didn’t coo or shush him like a parent normally would, it was if she knew there was no rocking away this hollowness, the lost he was feeling couldn’t be shushed and locked away inside of him forever…that would surely drive anyone mad. He felt rather than saw her come to a stop, presumably in front of the firefighter.

 

He could hear the muffled sound of their voices, but chose to listen to his frantic heartbeat instead. Besides they’d probably be talking a whole bunch of mumbo jumbo he wouldn’t care or want to understand anyway.

 

After a moment he felt Mrs. Patts pat his back gently before gently tugging at his arms and setting his feet firmly on the ground so that he faced the brooding firefighter.

 

The man looked him over with dark eyes. The bushy mustache over his lip reminded Zayn of the one’s the men on telly would have whenever his Father allowed him to watch a scary film with him; they were usually referred to the tall bulky blokes that played butchers. Except this man appeared to be in his mid-fifties.

 

The black walkie talkie in his hands was constantly making static noises along with garbled sentences Zayn couldn’t care to comprehend. Zayn had put his focus elsewhere anyway, his eyes watching as the firemen tried in vain to break down his front door, away from the intimidating man before him, away from the pity filled stares of his neighbours.

 

He seen clearly when the firefighters had hit the door again with the large black object and when they had gotten no further than where they already were, they groaned and dropped it. One of them headed down the termite eaten stairs and headed in their direction, agitation pouring off him like the rain.

 

‘We’ve tried everything Paul, the goddamn thing won’t budge.’

 

‘Well, make it budge. Damn it,’ Paul retorted in a gruff tone

 

The agitated fireman scrubbed a dirty hand down his wet face. ‘What the hell do you want us to do, huh? When I say we’ve tried everything, I mean everything!’ 

 

‘Listen kid.’ Paul started with a finger poking at the other man’s protective gear ‘I’ve been out here for three hours, my socks are wet, my helmets’ too tight on my head, my backs starting to hurt, you know I’m over 54 years old and I don’t have time for a child throwing a Goddamn hissy fit over things they can’t open!’ he positively yelled causing everyone around him to shrink in on themselves.

 

After a breath pulled in deeply, Paul wiped his face, expression now resolved and weary ‘look, I know how stressful the thought off people being in a burning building could be, no matter how long it’s been its best we keep trying, eh kid?’

 

The man nodded ‘There are people alive or dead, which ever in that house, and I want to get them out. That says what? Find me a way into that house, and I don’t care if you have to hack at that door for 10 more hours with that ax. I don’t care if you find a hand grenade to blow up the front door, hell crash a car into the side of it for all the fucks I give about this house, just find me a way in there.’

 

‘Sir,’ the fireman saluted before rushing back to work the fireman Paul turned to address the others that were working on the house ‘make it happen ladies, look alive!” He turned back to Mrs. Patts and the trembling boy hugging her waist.

 

‘This is their kid?’ he asked her while regarding Zayn with an unreadable expression, clearly ignoring the silent tears rolling down his red cheeks.

 

‘Correct.’ She answered pulling him a little closer to her side.

 

He nodded before crouching down to the young boy’s height ‘what’s your name kid?’

 

Zayn gasped a little and tried to pronounce the syllables of his name…but came up short. Not a word, a breath, nor a squeak left his open mouth. And it confused him, not to mention caused him to cry more. He’d lost his voice.

 

He felt Mrs. Patts close his mouth and heard her suck a deep breath as she drew him close again.

‘His name is Zayn Javadd Malik. He’s 9 years young, with a broken heart. Is that all for now?’ She hissed hotly; absolutely agitated as Zayn sobbed into her hip.

 

Paul’s head cocked back, ‘you know him then?’

 

She pulled her chin up higher, ‘I do and I have for a very long time.’

 

Paul didn’t appear phased by Mrs. Patts sudden mean streak, ‘tell me how he got out the house?’

 

‘No matter the blood and skin, those folks were my family too. I would cry out to the heavens if I knew another bloody way in and out of that sodding house!’

 

‘Now, now Mary Ann, I understand you’re hurting, and you have every reason to be protective, but with everyone’s temper’s running a bit high from stress, can we put away the anger for another time yeah?’

 

It tooka moment, but Mary Ann nodded mutely keeping Zayn as he was at her side.

 

‘Hey kiddo,’ He tried again. This time bending to the 9 year old's height, ‘can you tell me how you got out of your house?’

 

A simple headshake.

 

‘Did you sleepwalk? Were you carried?’

 

A bounce of bony shoulders Paul frowned ‘you don’t remember?’

 

Another small shake, and Paul was once again regarding him with this look of confusion and suspicion and Zayn blurry vision and all had nowhere else to look, but into Paul’s brown calculating eyes. He was drawn into them, before his body shook with force. It was fear.

 

The firemen on the porch had once again started to beat at the barrier of his front door repeatedly, causing him to jump every time the bulky object made contact. Paul, noticing his fright, turned to look at the working men then back to Zayn, who was now positively gripping Mary Ann.

 

'I want to know what kind of equipment your builders were using when they built this house.’ He grumbled, raising to full height.

 

‘It was his father. Yaser,’ Mary Ann cut in. ‘For as long as I’ve known them, he’s always been like that; closing up every corner with sealant, reconstructing the house so that it was un-breach-able. He’d done it so well that the saying about not judging books by covers, cakes by icing, personalities by faces became all too true. Tricia explained to me later on that he was working so hard to make sure nothing would enter that house without his permission.’

 

‘Dear God, woman, the man has undoubtedly built an indestructible safe house, what on earth was he trying to keep out?’

 

Mary Ann tutted twice and raise a brow at him ‘clearly you haven’t seen this neighbourhood for what it truly is.’

 

‘Well he’s done his job, a fine one at that. As you can see the house is charred, but none of the burned material appear to be softening enough in the right places. The fire of course had to have started from the inside out so whatever in there is mostly likely tarnished, so while he may have built the house to keep whatever out it may have done a good job keeping them inside as well.’

 

It could’ve been that raggedy thing they call their heating system. What if it had gotten tired of the nasty names he and his family called it and caught fire in the middle of the night for revenge? Zayn thought frantically. If only he could talk…

 

‘The Malik family, if I’m not mistaken, was asleep here when the fire occurred. And since there is no sign of forced exit, and their cars are still in the lot to the side, it’s safe to assume that they are now…deceased. I’m sorry Mary Ann, but there is no way they could have gotten away from those toxic fumes along with keep those flames at bay. Zayn buddy I’m so sorry.’

 

Zayn could feel Mary Ann shaking and assumed she must have been crying as hard as he was now, and Zayn was grateful for the condolences Paul threw at him, but fuck if it didn’t mean a thing to him that very moment. His family was dead.

 

‘Mary Ann?’ he called trying to get her to focus again. Zayn heard her draw in a shaky wet breath and he squeezed her tighter ‘we’re going to try our best to get that door there down, and get your folks out so you could give them a proper burial, so you don’t have to worry about that. But can you tell me if Zayn has any family members that can take him in? Any distant relatives?’

 

She cleared her throat and dabbed uselessly at her tear streaked face, only to have it wet with new ones, ‘not that I know of, they never mention anyone but themselves when they spoke family. In fact Yaser, his father used to say ‘we’ve only got each other.’ Whenever we had stakeouts over at the Malik’s. He would repeat it like a motivational mantra, every time he got a chance to fit it into a conversation.’ She sniffled ‘and No I don’t mind taking Zayn in.’

 

_Bless this woman,_ Zayn thought as temporary relief flooded his body, the feeling foreign to him now.

 

‘You must understand Mary Ann.’ Paul started hesitantly ‘I’m not sayin' I don’t believe little Zayn when he says he doesn’t know how he got out of the house, but the officials, police and what not is going to be pretty suspicious when they learn of his survival. Ultimately their going to put the blame on his shoulder, if we can’t find anything plausible to have started the fire that is. There would still be no explaining of how he got out.’

 

Zayn took the blow of his words with more silent tears, but Mary Ann didn’t dare.

 

'That’s absolutely absurd, you think this 9 year old boy would kill the people who raised, clothed, and bathed him! As you can see those people have gone far out of their way just to keep those children, all of them, from the truly God awful horrors of life and you think this is the way he would repay them? By setting them on fire?!’

 

‘Mary Ann, like I said I don’t think he would, but I’m not with public officials, I’m not internal affairs, I’m not with the federation, and I’m not a part of the CIA or whatever. I can’t control this anymore than you can. I’m just a lowly fireman.’

 

Mary Ann caught her breath after her outburst and agreed with Paul’s reasoning. ‘I’m sorry, you’re right.’

 

By that time Zayn had already drawn in on himself as they discussed some of the actions she may have to face, what they were going to do after they got him checked out at the hospital.

 

Zayn paid no mind to it as he took in that of what used to be his home. He flames had burned the interior from the inside out, the paint blackened and boiled from the intense heat the flames had to have been giving off.

 

Some of the material was still in the form of air bubbles in places, while other places revealed charred planes of material where the flames had burned though, some still dripping from melting and water from the rain. As bad as the house appeared and as much of a beating he knew it had taken, his dad had done something right because, the house still stood strong in tall, just a little burned.

 

If it hadn’t been for his family members being inside of it lying in bed lifelessly and positively baked then he’d have something else to feel ‘proud’ about. Zayn let go of Mary Ann, Mrs. Patts, and turned to look onto the front yard. There were still quite a bit of onlookers behind them, some of them covered in rain coats, other absolutely drenched from the rain that had been falling harder for a while now.

 

They were all covered in soot from the dissipated smoke that had been billowing out of the house. He watched as firemen scurried about to get different equipment to knock a hole in the front door, or anywhere as of that moment it seemed. Some of them were putting on different yellow suits, special suits, in order to enter the poisonous atmosphere once they got found a safe way to enter that is.

 

Zayn wasn’t cold, as he was used to standing out in the rain, but he felt cold inside, he did feel the cold on his cheeks as his unwavering wave of silent tears continued to mix with that of the rain drops. He knew he wasn’t alone in his grief, but goddamn it if it didn’t feel that way. He felt so lonely, so betrayed because his family left him, albeit by unfortunate death, so traitorous because he had survived because he slept walk to the stupid tree house across the street in the woods.

 

He’s never slept walked in his whole fucking life. How did he get out there, that blood on the planks outside the tree house opening made no sense, how did they get there, who sat in the stupid wooden chair next to him while he slept through his families conclusion of life. None of it made sense nor did it add up to sleep walking so… What. The. Fuck?

 

Zayn didn’t have a fucking clue. He couldn’t remember anything that happened during that nighr to save his goddamn life. He doesn’t remember the fumes of the fire, not the heat, not the sight. And yeah he sleeps tight during the night, but come on a fucking fire would wake him.

 

He huffed silently while the grownups continued to talk, and sustained mentally encouraging himself.

 

C’mon think Zayn. Think.

 

He began to think long and hard about anything that had happened that night because he couldn’t seem to remember jack shit. Not when his mum tucked him in, and told him to take his glasses off before he went to sleep, just so he wouldn’t break them again, she does it every night, but he couldn’t remember her doing it last night at all.

So what the fuck does he remember? He thought and thought and thought until he saw that rain caught a glimpse of that crystalline rain drop rolling down the plane of his window, and nearly whopped and hollered with excitement.

 

It was something that had definitely happened that night. So Zayn picked that up and thought harder and harder and harder about what happened that night. He caught a glimpse of his mother closing his heavy door half way and calling ‘I love you’ over her shoulder heading out the door into the hall way. He nearly sobbed at the sight of her, and yearned to yell out a warning of coming events, but try as he might, the latter isn’t exactly an ability attained for reviewing memories, so he decided to remain strong with the pursuit of his memories.

 

She left out to the hallway, her baby blue bunny printed night robe flowing after her as she called to him telling him to take his glasses off that instant just before the hallway light went off. He tried to go further into the night and caught a glimpse of father kissing Safaa and Waliyha on the head goodnight, while he was brushing his teeth in the bathroom.

 

Zayn smiled in the present, because he knew by the mess of hair on the girl’s heads they had just had some type of pillow attack me, while we jump on the bed shenanigan with their father. He spotted Doniya as she passed the bathroom door with a midnight snack in her hand; no doubt she was sneaking into her bedroom. And from down the hall, he could hear their mother calling her out on it, and warning her that it was the last time that she’d let food be eaten upstairs. Doniya’s reply: ‘got it mum! Goodnight!’ before the clear slam of her door.

 

He remembers shaking his head at his family’s hectic routine.

 

The way she said ‘mum’ had caused him to smile. He remembered their mothers face earlier that week when Doniya had resorted to calling her Tricia instead. It had tickled and appalled her so much she turned pink and eventually came on with a fit of giggles in-between ordering Doniya never to call her that again, she came to the revelation that Doniya was just like her, and that she in turn was turning into her own mother. And then he tried again once more.

 

This time harder than he had the other times. And though it was a huge strain that he had been involved in for more than fifteen seconds, it was worth it. Why? Because suddenly there was a flash of colour surrounding yesterday’s activates, things he didn’t remember, but things that had obviously happened.

 

He remembered the girls bickering about which toy was who’s, remembered the French toast sticks his mum made him for breakfast, remembered his Dad tripling over and accurately spilling that blue paint that was for the tree house windows and just shaking his head at his dad klutziness, he remembered the splash of paint landing near the crotch of his father’s favorite tan khakis, and rightfully laughing his ass off, he remembered teasing his father for it all day, he remembered his father’s friends coming over their faces clear as day, he remembers going out in to the into the front yard woods ,when the raining had let up a bit, to try and put onto paper exactly what he saw in his eyes.

 

He remembers Doniya pestering him about his ‘flat’ hair, his mum fussing over what she was going to cook for dinner that night so that the ‘poker boys’ and the rest of the family would agree on it, because the woman always aimed to please. His tongue darted out to warm his numb lips.

 

Dear god he remembered everything. But he had lost sight of what he was doing this for, was it for closure. Nope. He still didn’t know how he had gotten out of his bed, outside in that tree house, how the blood got on the tree house planks, how the chair moved, how the blood got in his mouth.

 

Because saying he bit his lip was logical before, but just a moment ago…when he had warmed his lips there was no telltale puncture of teeth on neither of his lips. He was sore but he wasn’t bleeding at all. He never was, and as the memories of the night before crowded his brain, he couldn’t put two and two together. Whose blood was in his mouth? Why would someone put blood in his mouth? That shit’s disgusting.

 

He remembered everything just before he’d fallen asleep but why not being moved? More and more images fluttered into his mind sigh. Random images containing the snarky smile of Doniya, his dad falling over more stuff, the girls ambushing him mornings when he’s in dead sleep, his notebook drawings blowing in the wind as he drew tiger lilies, him admiring the rich colour of the greenery outside the tree house contrasting with the grey skies, his mums home baked potatoes, until HA! There!!!

 

He caught a glimpse of what would happen if he’d been lying in bed and gazing up at the darkened ceiling of his bedroom. And, whoa, where the hell did that come from? When did this happen? A scowl that seemed to be permanent etched the brow of the confused lad as he processed what he had seen. He doesn’t even remember waking back up after he had dosed off the first time nor turning on his back.

 

He began the course of reliving the dream as if it were a film in first person; he could hear the thunder booming outside, and the rain pelting the house from what seemed like every angle. Other than that it was quiet. He wasn’t moving, just laid stationary in that position looking up as the street lights suddenly cast the image of his window above on the ceiling and he could see the inverted raindrops falling down the window from there.

 

A sharp pang of fear assaulted his gut because he didn’t know where this was going. He didn’t remember it and he really wasn’t moving. When he finally turned his eyes he saw that his door was open further than what his mum had previously put it before she had left.

 

Could’ve been the wind, but that’s chicken shit. So he waited; listened the wind whip, the rain pelt, and the thunder boom for another full minute until the very next second of nothing but that, there was suddenly something above him; A shapeless shadow creature of some sorts, with strange eyes.

 

In Zayn’s memory he screamed and he damn near screamed in real life too, but suddenly as soon as the memory came it was gone. Didn’t stop it from scaring the shit out of him though.

 

Zayn found time to catch his breath, and Mary Ann noticing his jolt, asked if he was about to faint, and he shook his head in answer. She nodded before swiftly turning and falling back into her conversation she was having with Paul. The fireman, Paul, seemed to be concerned as well, which was….touching.

 

When Zayn’s eyes flittered to his face briefly, he caught the moment when his brow smoothed over as Mary Ann went on. He vaguely caught her saying something along the lines of ‘-eat. I’m surprised he hasn’t fainted yet.’

 

Zayn focused and pulled up the memory again, skipping to the point and settling on the moment just before the fright. The creature appeared and he had screamed a second before something clamped sown over his mouth. He looked the thing dead in its glowing Neon coloured eyes; a majestic kaleidoscope of flashing blood red and glowing grass green then nothing.

 

He’d try again in hopes of seeing more but only receive a second more of the creatures eyes Just before he lost the rest of it. That was it. He tried again and again, but that’s the only thing it was possible for him to remember. What was this some crappy UK version of The Fourth Kind? What the hell did this mean? He questioned no one in particular, as he felt Mary Ann tugging on his shoulder.

 

She suddenly wanted to pick him up again, and he didn’t have the strength or dignity to tell her he was fine on his feet. So he went, but it wasn’t until covered body stretchers were being lifted off of the porch, down the stairs and to the ambulance trucks that he realized why. She hadn’t wanted him to see this but he looked anyway.

 

God, He was so stuck in thought before that he didn’t even know when they had breached the security of the front door, or how they did it. And as he felt Mary Ann’s body shake with fits of sobs she had been putting off for far too long, he felt his own eyes well with more unwelcome tears of his own. They were dead. They were really fucking dead…so why was he alive?

 

He hadn’t a fucking clue, and he hated himself for the glimmer of hope that this creature could’ve taken his other family members elsewhere like it did Zayn. Some momentary alien abduction sheep shit. What the fuck was so special about him; sure he was a sweet child.

 

He did as he was told, he helped around the house, he ate his carrots(which he hates)whenever his mum decided it was time to torture him for his bad eyesight, he ignores the bullies, got decent grades, took care of his sisters, he picked up the slack most the time, and just made every decision with gut instinct.

 

Sure he couldn’t tick all the good deeds he’s done for his family off on one hand, but he was the party-pooper, the brooding artist, he barely talked, barely opened his goddamned mouth for anything, he wasn’t smart like his father, pretty like his mother, bold as Doniya, or as innocent as the girls, and yet he was spared a life, whatever the hell that creature was he sure as shit wasn’t not going to thank it for that.

 

As far as his knowledge went, it was in his house before it caught fire, so it therefore is responsible. So in that moment, as he and Mary Ann clung to one another in comfort, he promised to get revenge for his family members.

 

‘I will avenge you.’ He croaked out through his tears. Then in a shaky whisper ‘I promise’

 

<><>><<><> 

 

Present day, right now it was one of the promises he didn’t dare break. Like to never smoke more than 5 cigarettes a day, for Mary Ann’s sake that is, and to never stray too far without giving her a call, Zayn thought as he watched the people scurry below on the streets like ants from his expensive high-rise hotel room. The room was nothing short of black and silver with white vases here and there, and while it lacked in colour, it had a great view.

 

The wide berth of the glass window showing just how beautiful a city could look at night. And while he really didn’t like the rain much anymore, he’d taken coming on to high spaces and watching life pass through the time capsule that is every minute. He was reclined in the black faux leather couch nearest to the window, with an arm thrown behind his head, and was just thinking as he took another deep drag from the fag in his free hand.

 

He’d been smoking it for the past 3 minutes, it was his fourth one that day, and he had already burned half way through it. These feelings he had gained back, the ones he couldn’t allow himself to be numb to forever, were excitement and overwhelming anxiety, worse than what he experienced when he was 9, the excitement being fairly new.

 

Zayn was no longer a naïve bony boy; he knew that every moment of life is worth something and that it was best to make it mean more. He was on a trail, a good one, and the fear of God couldn’t stop him from finding what he had been tracking for the better part of his life.

 

He wasn’t mad, he wasn’t obsessed, but he was filled with just the type of steely determination that would usually be reserved for going to war.

 

He made a promise to his family that day, 13 years ago, and he was dead set on seeing it through.

<><>><<><> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Harry Styles

*Drip*

 

<><>><<><> 

 

Mid November 1859

 

Harry began sneaking out as soon as he reached puberty. The bright side of this is that he didn’t have a particularly strict rule regimen, but on the other side his mother began the process of raising him to be a decent man as soon as he hit the darling age of 3; Which meant using table manners, choosing respectable attire to wear, tying his laces, using admirable diction, and not only to hold open doors for the ladies, but to do it with his hands rather than his trusty right foot.

 

Besides, the gash he had gotten on his middle toe should have been enough for him to stop doing that in the first place.

 

His mother, bless that woman, she did everything for him. He didn’t think he could love anyone in the world the way he loved his mother. If he could he would live in every moment where she rocked him after a bad dream, calmed him as she rinsed stinging soap from his eyes whenever he took a bath, it happened every time because of course he would splash, tickled away the hiccups, kissed away his tears, and sang away the monsters under his bed.

 

If Harry told his father that there were monsters beneath his bed, he would simply hand Harry his custom made pistol and tell him to kill it. If you noticed that he has barely been mentioned, you deserve a chocolate chip cookie, because that’s just what he is,  _unmentionable._

 

His father earned that title when the rich, tiny dicked bastards at his school cornered and shoved him down the water well behind the school. They made fun of the pimples that had grown blotchy all over his face, and the fact that he didn’t have the money their parents attained.

 

That wasn’t what made him convulse into tears, harry knew that his family wasn’t piss poor, but he knew he could be dressed a lot better, it wasn’t even the fall down the 10 foot deep well, during which he had broken his arm, it was slams they had made at his mother because she didn’t have a job.

 

They blurred her image, disrespected her name, and changed his perspectives; calling her a whore, prostitute, saying that they had overheard their father’s bragging about how they had picked her up in the back of that night pub on the corner.

 

And while Harry, the poor boy, sat on their rickety couch after school, and poured his heart out to his mother, telling her these horrible things those arrogant boys said about her, watched as she realized her fears of not being accepted into society were not just simple doubts, watched as her eyes watered when her told her the nasty things their own neighbors said about her.

 

It had only made him cry more, and it didn’t help that his arm was absolutely throbbing by now. They had tried to break him and damn near succeeded, but what broke him the most was his father.

 

He just stood there and watched as his mother rocked him, her own body shaking with the sobs she tried to hold in. his face his face was neither happy, sad, stunned, nor frightened…just stern. Mouth drawn a bit lower, and hands shoved deep into his stitched slacks, his mum had spent her valuable time working on.

 

He had heard every word, every breathy cry, every hiccup that had come out of his son’s mouth, and had even watched while his mother’s shoulders sagged in self defeat, but what did he do? Nothing that’s what.

 

*Drip*

 

Now you would think with that with being the man of the house, his father would try and console, to chase away all worries, doubts, fears, self-consciousness. That’s not what he did, what did he do? Ran for Governor…and won.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

Growing up in the Governor’s mansion had its perks, he couldn’t tell you the last time he had touched his dirty laundry or any of the glass printed dishes. Harry almost was certain that his mum would sear his skin if he so much as attempted to clutch at her fine china. He just about let it slip every time he drank tea, thanks to the daggers his mum would be mentally throwing at his large clumsy teenage hands.

 

And yeah now, he had money, he had servants, he had the house, he had a fucking title, but something he seemed to be keeping…Pizza Face.

 

They had better food to eat, better clothing to wear, better education for Harry, not to mention how happy his mum was. He couldn’t help smiling as she frolicked around in the front yard, hair pulled back tight, as she hummed classics while plants fresh daisies.

 

So the new Governed family sure had changed a lot and fixed a couple things too, but Harry was certain that it didn’t or wouldn’t fix the void that was cast between his family. As if his father needed a job with more responsibility when he couldn’t even treat his family right, instead of getting a higher maintenance job than before, he should have at least tried to right things by spending time with them and talking to them.

 

But he didn’t.

 

Harry couldn’t tell you the countless times he had overheard his parents yelling matches all the way on the other side of the mansion. He would be sitting on the his room balcony, writing in the brown leather covered journal, enjoying the way the cicadas song, compliments the way the grass sway in the steady, but calm wind, the way the fire light compared second to none with the brilliant silver moon above him.

 

And just like a snap of finger, it would start.

 

And suddenly the moon wasn’t so bright, and then the cicada’s song sounded more like millions of Banshees seeking to blow out his eardrums, the air was too still and he’d stop writing.

 

It would happen for days on end, him not being able to express his thoughts and feelings, and it would drive him mad. It made it worse, breakfast the mornings after, where his parents would just sit at the grand dining table and act as if the others presence doesn’t exist, that nothing at all happened; forks scraping rather loudly in the overtly quiet hall. And it irked harry so much he almost gave in to the impulse to tear every curly strand of hair off his head, because that’s just it, things were changing yet again.

 

And by the way his mother didn’t even bother to badger him about his choice of clothing; they weren’t changing for the better.

 

*Drip, Drip*

 

Around the age of 18, all of his bacne and acne cleared up completely. His skin seemed to pull tighter over his bones and his body began to fill out.

 

Harry remembers the first time he got stared at by a woman. It wasn’t the way his mother looked at him with that proud mama look, not the way the girls used to sneer at him back then, but in a way that made him shrink into himself, but at the same time made his chest buff out a little more. It was from Meredith Carry, his suit tailor.

 

He had felt the change a soon as she fit the black jacket over this fitted vest. Not to sound douche, but he knew he look good, he saw the great contrast between his toned ivory skin and the sharp black of the suit collars, felt how great the sleeves cased his long but manageable arms. But he felt it, if not more, in Meredith.

 

The 35 year old woman who paid him little mind before, eyed him as soon as he entered the fitting room; eyes batting, chin lifting along with the corners of her taut mouth. He felt it in the way she insisted on buttoning, rather slowly, his silky white shirt, in the way her fingers dragged across the wide span of his broad shoulder, in the way she lingered a little longer than necessary in his personal space.

 

She would watch him adjust his tie to a better angle out of the corner of her dark eyes, possibly counting on him making a move, which he didn’t.

 

She’d even tried buttering him up.

 

‘My, my young Harold,’ her husky voice started. ‘It’s a wonder you aren’t married yet.’

 

Not really sure how to take that, he made a noncommittal noise and went back to work on his tie. She didn’t seem phased by his uninterested attitude, licking at her nude lips and even failing to muffle a moan at the sight of the patch of milky skin that appeared when one of the top buttons popped off the loose stitching; the veins in his neck making a spectacular appearance as he reared his head upwards, to and fro trying to untie the tie again.

 

It was almost poetic the way her eyes danced across the lines of his body and caught on to every movement like her life depended on it. Poetic and unnerving.

 

Turns out it was Meredith who did make the first move.

 

So caught up in trying to get his tie to an acceptable angle to show his mum, he hadn’t even realized he left his pants loose. The tall vixen sauntered her way over to his side, pricey high heels clicking in every step, and circled him; like a lion with its prey; pulling and pushing in places she taught could use an outward fix, then finally the sound of her bunion makers halted. And it was sinful the way she began to poke out her hip, revealing her curves in feigned innocence; her toned body facing his side, he could hear every breath that she pulled in, because it was as if she was trying to inhale his essence.

 

‘You forgot something, love.’ she tsked, and then her hands were on him. Soft and dainty, they smoothed across his stomach, making the skin beneath the luxurious fabric clench.

 

And it wasn’t his ticklish ways streaking out to embarrass him, it was because in all the times she had helped him dress, her hands never had the intent they did that very second, they never felt this way to his body before, and he had never thought about having them this way. But now he craved them.

 

He felt his breath quicken as she came around his back wrapping her arms around his torso, and reached her strong, but delicate down to his waist stopping at his belt loops. By now his breathing attempts were a little, LOT, embarrassing, and his head was getting heavy.

 

She hooked her sharp chin over his shoulder, her dark blue orbs piercing him as she hooked her fingers in his front belt loops as well.

 

‘You have to stop this’ his brain urged. But his body jerked towards her touch every time she shifted her fingers.

 

He made a weak attempt to pull way, but she held tight. Her sweet and utterly evil voice sounded in his ear ‘Do you want me to touch you Harry?’

 

‘No’ Liar!

 

Her tongue licked small lines on his ears, teeth grazing, as her breath poured fuel to the fire burning inside him, causing him to lose the internal battle as well. She peppered his neck with kisses, but her hands stayed as they were. And, God! he wished she would move them already.

 

Meredith, who had been sucking what felt like a pretty huge bruise into his shoulder blade, lifted her head, strands of her golden tresses falling wayward, as she made a cooing noise. ‘You sure Hun, because I can make you feel as good as you look.’

 

And it was all breath and- oh.

 

‘Ooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’ ~~So fucking embarrassing~~.

 

The witch had bit into the side of his already tender neck, and if it hadn’t made his cock want to plant itself into her hand. She had the nerve to be giggling. ‘Looks like little Harold’s got a kink.’

 

When she noticed he didn’t have the patience to respond respectively, she started up again.

 

‘Now I’ll ask you again. Do you want me to touch you Harry?’ then- Dammit! She bit him again, and his will was shattered, gone, shattered like that vase he broke last week playing cricket in the house, shattered like milk glass he forgot about on his balcony, shattered like that hidden piece of bone white fine china his mum kept asking about, because she knows he’s broken it.

 

The wall cracked, crumbled and tumbled. And he moaned, moaned so loud because he didn’t care anymore.

 

‘Oh, God yes!’ he panted ‘yes please Meredith.’

 

Then she chuckled lowly, contentedly, in his ear before moaning ‘I love virgins.’ And her hands were around him then. That’s how it all started.

 

*Drip*

 

Harry had never fully given into the legitimate concept of feeling too deeply. He never bought it. And it’s not that he didn’t agree with it, it’s just that he didn’t want to believe it. Mostly weary of what his stoic stout of a father would say.

 

Though, he would always have to agree with the concept particularly whenever he found a lifeless sparrow lying wait to meet him on his balcony at the crack of dawn.

 

The birds had always calmed him, the sight of them. They did wonders to distract him whenever his parents decided to have at it in the mid hours of the day.

 

At that time he would do his best to drown them out and watch the flock of birds fly over the giant weeping willows in his back yard-he often found himself climbing-and over the orange pinkish sunset.

 

It wasn’t just them though, crows, geese, blue jays, seagulls, ravens, hawks, and small species of brown birds, also flew this invisible migration route over the top of his mansion as well, and he’d know this by the way he’d awake in the early morning hours to the sounds of different bird calls.

 

Later he would open his window for fresh air and find a community of diverse birds just walking about on the tall grass out back.

 

Most of them would be pecking at the ground for worms or small rodents; others would be resting in the line of weeping willow trees, avoiding the decent number of birds on the branches by idly using their beaks to hook onto the green and white droops of branches to get to the another part of the tree. But it was always the sparrows he found.

 

Sparrows for some reason frequented the night as much as they did the day. In fact on to many accounts of countless times had harry woken up to thumps, squawks, and thuds throughout mid-summer nights.

 

He would sit up in his bed, albeit groggily, and rub at his sleep ridden eyes, then once his senses come to he would comprehend, and realize what must have happened, and then turn over onto his stomach to let his burning tears stain the crisp white of his carefully ironed pillowcase.

 

On the other hand, he’d quirk his lip up, and give you one of his infamous half-wit-eye-roll-worthy quips to get you off his back.

 

This was something he often did in front of his father, a mask and he knew it. It was only to prevent his father from calling him something went along the lines of….girly…sissy. One wouldn’t be surprised that Harry really loathed those words and context.

 

Even when harry was younger, he knew it was his father he was hiding from rather than his feelings.

 

Present day Harry can’t help but snort when he thinks that he and the Harry Potter book character share more in common than his first name. Instead he was cursed his father’s looks and his mother’s emotions.

 

*Drip, Plop*

 

Whatever that was that had happened with Meredith…it had changed something in him. Harry of course was used to many emotions by now since he, truthfully, is a very emotional human being.

 

For instance, he’d always experience love, whenever he was in the presence of his mother. Whether it was in the olden days when she still had to cook for him and his father, since his older sister Gemma had decided she wanted nothing to do with their father anymore, Harry would wait, as usual, in the kitchen absently picking at the scab of one of his pimples turned sores, and then he’d suddenly hear a gasp.

 

When he finally looked at his mother she was clutching her hand close to her chest and biting her lip to keep the pain hidden and most likely trying to prevent him from being frightened.

 

It didn’t work that time and it never did.

 

He panicked; hopping up out of the skinny dinner chair, as she grabbed the nearest hand towel and wrapped it gently around her wrist.

 

Tears were pooling out of his eyes before he knew it, and even though she was the one hurting she would rub through his curls with her good hand, kiss away his terror, and tell him it was just a little boo-boo. A scratch that would heal easy.

 

Or it could be the governor days, where she didn’t even have to lift a finger. All she had to do all day was ….nothing.

 

Harry, even though he was the governors kid still would get-if not ignored- teased for his face, his clumsiness and many more unnecessary things, and even though he was growing into a man his mom would be there for his night terrors, tell him how much she loved him, tell him he was destined for greatness, remind him just how much he meant to her and even throwing in his father, promising not to mention his night terrors to his father too.

 

He experienced fear whenever his parents had a particularly nasty fight, and while his father would storm to his study, his mother would kick up scoffs on the polished marble floors, storming through different rooms to collect her belongings from them.

 

And while he would always have his door closed during these fights of theirs, after he’d hear his father’s study door slam-because it never failed- he’d migrate to the door and just lay the back of his head against it, listening to her swear up and down she was leaving him this time, that she was never coming back and just spewing out curses at his father and his governor’s job.

 

Not ever being able to help anything in those moments, just simply hearing her grunts as she threw things around in different rooms, glass breaking as her aim caused things to fall off dressers when she missed her hold all, maids scurrying away in fright muttering things about his mother that would once again twist her image if it got out to the public.

 

More fun for him. He could see the tabloid now.

 

Governor Styles: Married to a Mad Woman.

 

And even though he would hear all of this, hear the door to his father study slowly creek open as she continued to shriek grunts, and curse the house, the job, the bone white china even, he couldn’t stop the dread of helplessness he felt in those situations as well because she was going to give up on the family, just like Gemma did.

 

And then there’s sadness.

 

The emotion appeared so frequently that Harry wouldn’t be surprised if the creases of is frown were set into the folds of his face. It always came so fast that it never gave him time to register why it was happening or how he could have prevented it.

 

Harry had plenty to be sad about. You could look at him growing up basically without a father in his life, or the way he was treated in school, or the fact that his sister, whom he was very close to wouldn’t even other to speak to either of them anymore, or you could even think about just how lonely he must be living with an unhappy family and no friends. It’s pretty sad.

 

The funny thing is that no matter what happened to him, no matter the nightmares, the boredness he must go through, or the beat downs he used to receive from the other kids, he never let himself be pitied, and he never pitied himself.

 

Whenever he got sad it was always for his mother.

 

*Drip*

 

After a while, Harry began home schooling, and maybe it’s because he never had to go anywhere that he found out. It was a nice pretty blue day outside, the leaves were blowing lazily in the gentle breeze, and the birds in the trees singing happily as the sun evaporated all the morning dew away.

 

Harry had just finished with his studies, walking out of his room with pep in his step on nature could bring and then he heard it. There was banging, and crashing, and grunting sounding through the door of his father’s study, and a virgin could tell what those sounds were anywhere.

 

So out of respect, Harry backed away from the door and down the hall as fast as he could. It was the norm around here. Whenever his father would upset his mother bad enough he’d have to find ways to make it up to her, make her stay willingly. And Harry would always shake his head, and fix his curls before skipping down the stairs to get some refreshments.

 

Only today was different.

 

He whistled as he entered the kitchen the smell of fresh chopped vegetables hitting him when he did, and greeting Greta the house cook on his way to the fridge to open it. A cool breeze pooled in from the screen door open on the side of the kitchen, giving Greta a warm environment to do her job in.

 

He heard the sound of her knife meeting the chopping board, then the scrape of the knife when she moved the vegetables into a big bowl at the upper corner of the chopping block. He heard the bag of whole onions rustle as he scanned the shelves for the large, but disappearing bag of oranges his mother bought for him special. He ate the things so much.

 

His eyes shot to the ceiling when he heard a loud crash from above, and then a smirk appeared for the thought that just entered his head, and the fact that he found the orange colored hold up bag for the oranges and seemed to have a single orange left.

 

Bingo!

 

‘You might want to avoid the upstairs study, lest you want to jam sticks in your ears.’ He joked over his shoulder while he bent to grab the elusive fruit.

 

Greta was always quick to respond to his jokes, whether they were funny or not, she always called him on it, so when she didn’t respond, he paused his movements and turned to look at her.

 

She was holding a whole onion; absently rolling it in her hand before she met his questioning gaze. There was a bit of sweat on the top her brow, and a few wet strands of hair that had escaped her hair net stuck to the side of her face. And she just gave him this look; a look that said ‘I know exactly what you’re talking about, but I am not saying a thing.’

 

And what Harry was thinking was true if the way her brows kind of knitted together and her lips pursed after a moment.

 

She jerked her head towards the fridge ‘Close the box bub.’

 

Harry frowned, but did as he was told. He turned on his heels and started towards Greta as she began peeling the skin from the onion. ‘Greta?’

 

‘Harry?’ she responded as if she was clueless, and it caused him to narrow his eyes in suspicion.

 

‘Why are you acting like this?’ he queried causing her to purse her lips again before she began to chop at the onion. ‘You’re just a boy Harry… a sweet one. You wouldn’t understand.’

 

And Harry didn’t push her for several reasons. One he knew his place, two respect of boundaries and decision, and three something told him that he was going to figure out more sooner than later anyway.

 

The screen door behind him open up and the sound of his mother’s voice filled his ears. And then dread filled his body.

 

*Plop, Drop*

 

‘-oh! He was definitely trying to ask you to dinner Martha, and you know it. I’ve got a new pair of shoes that would fit you just right. Harry darling!’

 

Before his mother even noticed him, he was certain he had achieved something impossible by letting ten thousand emotions pass through his facial expressions in one second. He was probably right because Greta was slowly warning him with a quick head shake.

 

Oh he understood alright. But he couldn’t cry, not in front of his mother.

 

‘Harry love, are you alright?’ her voice closer now and he felt her warm hands come to settle between his long shoulder blades. He closed his eyes a moment before schooling his face and plastering on a fake smile.

 

‘Yeah mum I’m fine.’

 

‘Oh, good then.’ She said relieved quickly pecking his cheek and soothing the lipstick away before turning on someone else.

 

‘Martha, do put those bags down or you’ll pull something. Your help as always is appreciated.’ She smiled her gentlest smile at the cleaning maid who couldn’t help but to return it. No one with a heart could resist doing so. ‘And Greta dear?’

 

Greta too seemed to have wiped the weariness from her face as she turned to smile at his babbling mother.

 

A pro at it she was, because who knows how long his father had been sleeping around with the house help. At least his father was good at something in the house.

 

‘Yes Miss Anne?’

 

His mother fanned her hand at her properness ‘its Anne please, and the way you work this kitchen day and night makes me want to give you something. Do you need anything dear?’

 

Greta let her mask fall away and replaced it with the same fondness that had come over his and Martha’s faces.

 

‘She’s such a sweet woman.’ Greta had told him once during one of their many mid night conversations where he’d sneak down for a spoon of vanilla ice-cream.

 

Coming in all of the maids had believed every single word the men had said about his mother. Some of their children were the ones who said it to him, but the maids would gossip and make it even worse, because the kids would sort of get confirmation for what their fathers think his mother did for a living.

 

Now the maids, especially Greta and Martha know it’s nothing but lies. It more the reason she’s probably told his mother nothing about what’s happening upstairs at that very moment. And made sure to keep it from her. No one, besides his father, wanted to see her hurt.

 

‘No Anne, you don’t have to.’

 

‘I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Are you eating enough?’ she questioned. Clearly ignoring the size of the plump woman. She went on happily, ignoring Greta’s attempts to speak as well. ‘You need food, that’s it! I’ll have Mr. Styles raise your pay at once.’

 

‘Thank you Anne.’ His mother literally beamed at the fact that Greta had given into her offer, and then turned to babble some more at poor Martha. She was happy again today. He knew this from the crinkles that gathered at the corner of her eyes as she smiled. ‘Oh and speaking of your father Harry, is he home? Yes? Is he upstairs then?’ she said starting towards the kitchen opening.

 

Harry’s babbling was serving useless as she continued toward the door, but he was saved by is darling friend Greta.

 

‘Wait! Anne?’

 

‘Yes? What is it?’ she asked stopping; one of her booted feet just an inch shy out of the kitchen door.

 

‘What’s this I hear about Martha Mae over here getting lucky with a fella?’ And though that immediately caught his mother’s attention making her turn on her heels and walk back toward them with a devilish smile, his face immediately dropped

 

‘Ugh.’

 

‘Oh hush Harold,’ she hissed playfully swatting the back of his head as she passed and settled her arms on the smooth granite countertop. ‘You couldn’t possibly understand how to woo a decent lady.’

 

Greta laughed happily at Harry’s horror ‘He’ll know plenty if he’d clear the wax out his ears. So go on Anne, tell me who finally decided to step up and court Martha?’

 

She smiled tenderly before turning away from her somewhat disturbed son, a twinkle appearing at the corner of her eyes as she leaned forward intently ‘Gregory Hamilton.’

 

Greta’s loud and a bit obnoxious gasp swelled the room disturbing the sudden quiet. ‘No!’

 

‘Yes,’ she finalized. ‘I witnessed this with my own two lookers.’ Harry almost lost to the urge to roll his eyes.

 

Gregory Hamilton was one of those powerful lawful blokes that worked alongside his father. To many he was a catch. Harry would always hear the maids whispering hastily about him when they assumed they couldn’t be heard; washing the dishes extra hard and splashing extra loud they would say how fetch he looked without his white wig, and that they heard his was looking about for his soul mate.

 

He had also heard that he was married in secrecy and that he also had tons of mistresses’ waiting for him to bring money for their children. Of course they could be rumors spread by the same maid mouths, but it wouldn’t surprise Harry if everyone man and woman that came into contact with his father were right pricks. And that of course didn’t stop his admirers.

 

Greta seemed to be one of them, her voice rising an octave higher ‘well tell me what happened then!’

 

‘Alright, Alright!’ her voice rising to match Greta’s ‘So we were heading down the main road with our groceries,’ she began, glancing sidely at Martha who was putting them away, ‘and Martha, the stubborn woman, insisted that I carry the minors like the flower seeds and the bread.’

 

‘So there she is carrying a bag full of potatoes, cabbage, peppers, oranges, and milk in one arm, and a bag of soil in the other when I spot the little sale carts on the side of the curb, and I just had to look at it. These two darling young ladies gave us free refreshments, and the little blonde next to them made these little cute button dolls out of cotton and bed sheets she was selling for a quarter.’

 

‘Go on.’

 

‘So we had gotten to the mid end where Adelaide’s cart was, and I could tell just by her breathing she was beginning to struggle so I moved away…until I saw the most beautiful music box Greta. I bought it of course; meanwhile old Adelaide was for sure giving Martha TB with her eyes, had she dropped those bags on her precious clay vases. And she almost did until Gregory stepped in.’

 

Harry actually did roll his eyes that time, absently rolling the orange from hand to hand.

 

‘He took the bags from her, greeted me, but get this Gret! He couldn’t take his eyes off her! She was all flustered and pink, and it was the absolute cutest I’ve ever experienced. I walked ahead to give them privacy of course, but I know I heard something about a Duke ball, and then when we got to the house he asked me if she’d be free on Friday. Of course I said yes and ta da!’

 

‘That’s quite the story Anne.’ Greta compliments before turning on Martha ‘so what did he say.’

 

‘No, no, no! My lips will say nothing.’

 

‘Oh don’t be crass, this is exciting!’

 

‘It is not, you two are making something out of absolutely nothing.’

 

‘Tell us.’ In unison they said.

 

'Fine! He said it was indecent for a fine woman to be carrying heavy bags, so he took them and offered to carry them home for me. There!’

 

‘You hear that Harry? Chivalry, Take some notes Hun.’ Greta joked at the boy who was solemnly peeling his orange.

 

‘Oh come off it Greta, you know I raised a fine gentlemen. He’s going to be just like his father by the time he’s 20.’

 

Let’s hope not.

 

Crash!

 

‘What on earth is that racket upstairs!’ his mother shrieked, ‘is that you’re father harry? Has he been drinking again?’ And that woke Harry right out of his reverie. ‘NO! He’s had nothing all day, I’m sure someone just dropped a vase on accident. Now what was that I heard about flower seeds?’

 

‘You what? You want to plant flowers with me Harry?’

 

He shrugged ‘Why not?’

 

‘Well, you never did before.’

 

There was another softer crash then. They must be going at it for round two. ‘Well I want to now Woman!’ he pressed doing his best to ignore the stinging of his cheeks and the burning behind his eyes.

 

‘Okay well, I got some lilies, daisies, tulips, and ros-’ a bang sounded then and a muffled grunt followed.

 

‘Okay, good let’s do it now. Come on mum.’ She didn’t even protest that time, as he rushed her out the side door.

 

He couldn’t let her see the way light was flitting away from Greta’s eyes again, the way Martha bowed her head in shame. And as they worked on the flowers in the beaming sunlight, he could blame the silent tears on the sweat that poured off of him. He knew that his mother deserved way better treatment, and it was that day that he lost all respect for his father.

 

*Drip*

 

It all was for nothing eventually. The rushing her out of the house, the diversion s so she wouldn’t find out that her husband was a sleazebag. Nothing.

 

She was delighted by the idea before of spending more time with her son, but she was becoming suspicious anyway. She ended up finding out from the gossiping house maids. The nose bats never could really tell if they were whispering or yelling.

 

Harry remembers the day she found out like a short film. He was lounging on the couch beside Greta, who had just gone on break, and they were talking their usual non sense while Martha dusted the great ruby curtains down humming along to whatever tune that was in her head.

 

Everything was absolutely normal until she appeared at the doorway fucking livid. Her eyes red, her bun loose, her breathing ragged, her clothes disheveled. And it caused their giggling to halt and Martha’s happy tune to die out.

 

‘Miss Anne?’ She didn’t answer. Just clutched at her chest, as her breathing got more erratic. It might’ve been wrong to pity her, because in a way they were both in the same boat, but he did. If you were anyone else you would have thought she was having a heart attack. She probably was.

 

‘Mum what’s wrong?’ he asked slowly standing, but he already knew. Everyone did now. Instead of answering she straightened her back, and entered the room with determination.

 

‘How long?’ She asked coolly.

 

Greta was now stood up too ‘Ma’am?’

 

‘Don’t fucking ma’am me. How long Greta? How long have you known?! Huh?’ she shrieked her eyes shooting from Greta to Martha.

 

Silence

 

......

 

...

 

.

 

‘ANSWER ME!’

 

And it made Harry’s heart stop, because he’s never seen her like this, so hurt, so angry and broken. It was like a bottled beer being shook up. Her patience with all the shit his father put her through, now the tops been blown off, and all of the rage is just over flowing by the second. ‘Mum.’

 

‘I know now so you don’t have to lock it away anymore, just tell me how long was I deceived. You’ve all known yes? Everyone? Oh, God.’ She sobbed her ring less left hand clutching her stomach now. Martha and Greta did nothing but bow their heads in defeat. She already knew they knew, by the way they kept her out of the house so often.

 

‘And you too harry?’

 

No answer.

 

‘Harry?!’ he lifted his chin then, letting her see the tears brimming his eyes, and it only made her more angry.

 

‘You knew this and kept it from me. How could you!’

 

He stepped forward shaking his head fiercely ‘No mum-’ then he felt the pain, white hot against his cheek.

 

His eyes slowly moved back to his mother as he lifted a hand to the burning spot of his face. She appeared to be in disbelief as well. ‘I’m sorry Harry.’ She sobbed backing out of the room ‘I’m so sorry.’

 

*Drip, Drip*

 

Nothing felt right for the rest of that day. Half the help had been fired during her outrage, while the others hid in their rooms away from the chaos. He had cried on Greta’s shoulder however long she had allowed him to before she finally went off to bed herself. His father hadn’t come home yet and it was past ten now. Only god would guess what he was doing. But Harry’s concern was only for his mother.

 

She had gone outside to plant her flowers as per usual, only now she had no reason too. It was night out and she still was there, on her knees in her slip, silent tears falling as she dug up a spot to put more seeds into. Harry slowly made his way out onto the grass, cricket’s song swelling up like a symphony. He could hear her shuttering breaths even from where he stood gazing sadly at the back of his mother’s head.

 

Gathering his strength he moved towards her and settled on his knees next to her. Wisps of her hair were falling into her tear stained face as she leaned to get more dirt. ‘I shouldn’t have struck you.’

 

‘You had every right.’ His offered his own voice wobbly.

 

‘No, no.’ she sucked in a breath ‘you were only trying to protect me. I know that now.’

 

‘Come inside please. You’ll catch malaria.’

 

‘I don’t want to be anywhere near that house Harry. I can’t.’

 

‘I know, just please.’ He pleaded, pulling her cold hands until she stood. That night over tea, they talked about everything. He told her how he felt about the fighting, she told him why they were fighting, he told her about what the help were always saying, she listened, he even told her about that broken china she kept asking about, and it made her smile.

 

They just spoke about everything that came to mind, and if possible grew a closer bond than before. She didn’t leave his father, no one married ever really got divorces back then, she simply kept from him a lot more. He knew nothing of course, was barely home to notice a difference. So busy caring about the trust of others to maintain his job, he never knew mutiny had occurred right under his nose.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

So there you have it, harry had experienced all kinds of emotions, the lot of them made him sick to the brain, and rove him mad, but everything had changed after Meredith.

 

She introduced him to something that didn’t involve the forced excitement of planting seeds with his mother, or the fake smiles he used to plaster on at school, or the ones he gave his mother when he was dying inside, keeping horrid things from her.

 

The way she touched him, talked to him, looked at his moved him in ways he couldn’t begin to comprehend. He only knew he liked it far too much. And as her cheeks hollowed over his prick, and his thumb caressed the skin beneath her right eye, he knew this was the thrill of a first time experience.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

So harry began sneaking out for them, craving them like a fiend would its fix. He and his few buddies from school you sneak out to the little pub called The Eagle, and pick up birds that made his palms sweat.

 

He wanted to touch every girl he saw from then on, feel the smoothness of their thighs, caress the creamy skin of their arms when they accidentally bumped him, make the their legs give way as he tasted the sweat at the crook of their necks as he fondled the bundles of curls between their legs. Dive into the sweet nectar there.

 

He wanted everything he could have, everything they would give to him. He’d even beg, because now, now he was living. His mother had raised him to be a gentlemen, yeah, but she had also taught him how to speak to a lady, and he would thank her for that silently every time he told a girl her dress brought out the light of her ocean blue eyes, or that her dress would look nice next to his dress shirt on a floor somewhere.

 

Even go as far as completing how perfect her make is from the countless times he watched his mother put it on as a kid; telling her nude lipstick made her ivory skin glow a shade he’d never though accomplishable on a human.

 

He was always smooth with his words, weather they were offensive or not.

 

 

<><>><<><> 

 

 

By the time he was nineteen he had girls begging for is attention. Batting their lashing at him, and giving him sultry smiles from across the room.

 

He remembers inviting Violet Brimberry, the mayor’s daughter, over for brunch, and then sitting at the grand table in the dining hall.

 

She must have gotten impatient waiting for his attention because she ended up crawling along the distance of the 20 foot table, knocking his food the way and climbing onto his lap right there.

 

They fucked like animals in that chair, teeth nipping at neck contours, fingers gripping hard enough to bruise, and bruises sucked aimlessly into pen planes of exposed flesh. It was abso-fucking-lutely exhilarating. Doing this while the help was in the house, knowing they could get caught at any moment made him love every moment of it.

 

His father had actually caught his with a girl once, and tried his best at stepping up as a fatherly figure. Harry of course told him to fuck off to his study, which pissed him off royally. He marched to his mother to tattle and it only tickled her pink.

 

He knew that she knew she had nothing to worry about. These were mere flings. Though he fucked like a sex crazed monkey, he never broke their hearts intentionally. He never let them place their lips anywhere near his; saving his first kiss for his true love. It might sound cheesy, but his mom had taught him specifically not to waste something like that.

 

*Drip*

 

Around 1866 his mother contracted cholera from the local epidemic outbreak in London. She died shortly after that.

 

Harry had the slightest clue to do with himself. His father, when he was sober, contemplated and said aloud many times that he was sending harry to the English army. He had said it thousands of times when his mother was living, and it had always caused Harry to scoff.

 

Harry had hardened after her death, not letting simple things affect him as much, he fucked, drank, puked, and fucked again until he could feel no more; promising his mother he would never become like his father in the end.

 

He knew he wouldn’t let his derailment get that far, but he just simply chose not to feel. So harry being the gentlemen that he…was. Enlisted himself; it was more of a getaway from his drunk of a father who had probably shagged every house maid in the entire state by now.

 

He wanted nothing to do with him.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

When harry had gone into war, he got letters from Martha every so often, and some from Greta every day. It always warmed his heart a little hearing about how they’re lives was looking up. How living with Gregory Hamilton wasn't complete shit. That having a kid was a blessing and a curse. They were in somewhat of a happy state and that’s all he wanted for them. That’s all his mother would have wanted.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

A land mine exploded under his tank and killed half his officers. He was injured…badly. The fire searing most of his skin off his leg, as the rest of the team fought to pull him out. He was the only survivor.

 

By night fall, they had set up camp and tried for rest. He was beginning to bleeding out pretty bad, vision dancing as he caught glimpses of the teams beaten faces. Soot covered the lot of them, and blood stained their attire. His could feel the sting come in go from the gash wound the soldier Warren cleaned. And his leg….was probably septic.

 

Though he had been coming in and out of consciousness, his heart stuttered earlier when he overheard the boys contemplating whether they should cut it off or not. He wasn’t really prepared to die. But he would’ve rather they just put him out of his misery.

 

He would have pleaded for it if it came to that.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

When Harry came back to consciousness it was silent. Too silent. The crickets weren’t even chirping anymore. And a smell so familiar coated the night air with fierceness. It was fresh blood. He turned his sore neck and flinched at the sight before him.

 

His men killed, slaughtered and lifeless. Their bodies slumped in different directions, as blood slowly dripped from puncture wounds on their necks.

 

Then suddenly a man stood just behind the tall camp fire, and it caused his body to quake with fear.

 

 

*Drip, Drip, Plop*

 

 

There was no one there a second ago, Harry was sure of it. Then again there was the loss of blood. It was a miracle he was still alive anyway. This could all be a ratty hallucination, or a dream. A bad one since his good ones usually involved his mother in heaven, or him simply sitting watching the sun set over sycamore trees. So he closed his eyes and tried to dream peacefully.

 

He knew the man was on top of him before his brain and body could really comprehend it.

 

‘Whoever you are, I have no money, and I am injured and unarmed. This wouldn’t be a fair fight.’

 

His lids shuddered a bit as the man uttered a hasty sentence in a foreign langue; breath hitting his face.

 

This was definitely not a dream.

 

A cold sticky hand settled on the side of his face, and he managed not to flinch again. For some reason he knew the man was beckoning him to open his eyes so he obeyed.

 

The man’s skin was tanned to a caramelized shade, chestnut hair falling into his piercing, smiling, blue eyes. And if Harry hadn’t known what fascination was he knew now.

 

‘You’re a strange human.’ he spoke, tone throughly amused.

 

Harry slowly blinked and then swallowed the lump in his throat ‘Says the bloke on top of me.’

 

The man smiled then, but it immediately fell at his wince when the man shifted on a particular sore spot, ‘Are you in pain child?’

 

‘Nah, I’m peachy.’ Harry slurred

 

‘Non-sense.’

 

Harry's eyes moved around, focusing on nothing in general. He saw many things, but focused impressively on the blood staining the caramelized skin of the man's hand scratching absently at his bare belly. ‘Did you-kill my men?’

 

The man pulled back for a moment with a slight tilt to his mouth now ‘well, technically I-I wouldn’t say- they were bleeding out-yeah I did. I drank their blood.’ Tongue flicking out to coat his lips with saliva.

 

Harry swallowed again ‘why?’

 

A shrug ‘It’s how I survive, my sweet child.’

 

How grotesque, he wanted to say, but there was silence once more. The man didn’t move an inch, as if he was giving Harry all the time he needed to comprehend. One by one the crickets began to chirp again.

 

Something clicked. ‘Are you going to kill me?’ eyes darting between the man and his blood stained mouth.

 

‘No. I happen to like you. You don’t appear afraid, though I'm aware that you are. I can hear the sound of your weakening heartbeats attempting to speed up.’

 

Harry could feel it in his ears too; hear the slowing pound of his heart ringing in his aching ears. Everything hurt so fucking bad.

 

‘What do you want from me?’

 

‘Do you wish to die, love?’ He questioned, leaning in forward again.

 

‘N-no,’ he stuttered.

 

‘Would you like me to take the pain away child? Make it all better?’

 

‘Pr-preferably.’

 

‘Very well.’

 

The man sat upright again and lowered his own bloody wrist to Harry's mouth. Harry’s dull eyes widened tenfold as he watched the teeth in this man's mouth elongate to an obnoxious length.

 

He tried in vain to sit up when he could literally hear when his teeth pierced the skin. ‘Bloody hell! What are you doing?

 

He didn’t answer just moved his newly bloodied mouth away from his arm and brought the leaking arm to Harry’s dry mouth.

 

He jerked his face away, and tried to ignore the delight shining off the man's face. ‘Drink child. Drink and I promise you will feel a million times better.’

 

Harry slowly turned his head back towards the arm, looked to the man’s face, and then back to the dripping substance; the smell of copper filling his nose now.

 

‘Drink.’ He coaxed

 

And Harry's tongue swiped out to taste the blood he had already settled between the cracks of his lips, and only took a lithe of a second for him to moan. It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

 

The man willingly brought his arm to Harry’s thirsty mouth, as his other hand smoothed back the mess of his unruly curls. Harry could feel a strange burning in his throat as the blood followed down the passage and into his stomach. It settled there. Boiling to a hotter fire but harry didn’t dare stop. He got the feeling back in his toes one by one, the strength in his finger tip by tip, and the cooperating feel of his limbs obeying him once more.

 

His vision was divine, and his hearing sharp. And everything burned hotter than before, it was like his own blood was trying to boil beneath his skin, but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop. His arms came up to clutch the strangers tanned arm with a strong grip, and it only caused the man to chuckle.

 

‘Take as much as you need. Tonight a new life starts for you child.’

 

*Drip*

 

It was later that night he found out his name was Louis. He was a vampire and now Harry was too. They had begun something that night, a bond of sorts the strongest betrayal couldn’t break; the bond between Maker and Child.

 

*Drip*

 

That was over almost 200 years ago; when Harry was so naïve to the bigger things in life. The things that were actually hiding in plain sight. He knew better now of course considering the fact that he was one of those things.

 

Even as he sat in his Siberian mansion, with lifeless bodies limp on the plush red carpet with the Indian patterns, he’s knows there’s more to this life than this.

 

As he sat there, blood dripping from the tip of his elongated claws, he felt little to nothing about what he had done; Gabriel had gotten out of hand tearing the throats of some of the humans, scratching 5 inch wounding into their pelvis’s, chest, and stomach just to hear them scream in agony.

 

Harry sat there on his thrown-like red leather chair, watching the blood splatter the wall and ceiling, causing it to make a song with the slow drops that fell on their own accord.

 

30 humans were targeted and brought here to be slaughtered tonight; tomorrow 50 or more will go through the same. Maybe in a different place or at a different time.

 

It depends on how their King see's fit. Whatever pleases him.

 

Harry moved a swift glance towards his maker, smirking the chestnut haired vampire had dropped his fresh kill with a disgruntled huff at his ruined clothes.

 

Even before Louis reached for his cell, and gave Harry a meaningful stare, he knew.

 

They had another hit. They had to move.

 

The news didn't effect him one bit. A natural born killer is what he was and sadly Harry was completely okay with it.

 

This was his life for now.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

*Drip*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy jolly days. I've fixed a lot. Umm hopefully it's better for you to read. The pain isn't writing for me...it's posting sadly.
> 
> Um so sorry if these chApters are boring, but it's just the introduction into their lives. Keep reading. I encourage.
> 
> -S


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know im a boob for being late.

Disobedience: The tendency to be wayward

 

Every kid has performed an act of disobedience and Zayn knows this because even the sweetest of angels break the tiniest of rules. Safaa for instance, in the times Zayn allowed himself to think about his family he remembers her determination as she tried sticking her skinny hand down the narrow hole of mums cookie jar only to promptly get it stuck.

 

The first time Zayn found her he frowned at her of course, took in her wobbling form on the rickety kitchen chair, and promised she was lucky it wasn’t their mother. This happened on occasion and Zayn helped her every time even though he died a little inside every time he did so. Zayn was never one of those kids, never the one to show how much he disliked the situation he was stuck in.

 

He always took things with a grain of salt, did what he was told; and he held his chin up high as he did it. So even as he supplied a healthy amount of butter to Safaa’s wrist and pulled it out with a faint pop! He felt horrible. After a couple days he was sure he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut, but eventually he pulled through. Though whenever his mum would let them have at a batch of cookies, he would find his spirits lifted when Safaa would find it in herself to visit him.

 

She would stand quietly at his bedroom door with a book tucked in the clutch of her armpit, while balancing a small plate of chunky chocolate chip cookies and two glasses of milk on a bigger plate, and shimmy her tiny shoulders suggestively.

 

A toddler’s way of gratitude; and it was so cute and sincere that he always found himself excepting. Letting her fit herself into the side of his body as she demanded he read her the book she brought along, letting her forcefully stuff half of her last cookie into his mouth even though he refused it, letting her fall asleep there and allowing her to use him as her own personal breathing big brother pillow.

 

Even though the aiding paid off with the sweet tender moments he shared with his little sister the guilt would often eat away at him as a partially contending culprit. Whatever he used to feel keeping things from his parents, the guilt, it all circled back to whatever he was feeling in this very moment, only not as strongly.

 

Now as he leant lazily on the side of a brick wall, leg propped against it, he exhaled the remains of his smoke cloud into the cool Missouri night air. For the past 5 minutes he had stood, cigarette dangling loosely from his mouth and his eyes moving along with every other frantic pace his partner Erik made in attempt to calm himself. He felt the smallest sliver of nothing for his distress. He knows he should’ve at least offered a drag to him, but he couldn’t even work of the effort to care.

 

He‘d begun pulling at his hair ‘we’re gonna get fired.'

 

Probably.Zayn thought, but didn’t bother to answer.

 

Instead he settled for turning his attention to the (F.A.) Foreign Alchemy team for Vampiric Exploration and Confinement, codename V.E.C., as they breached every corner of the alleyway for left over evidence and lifted several body bags into the back of a not so obscurely parked black van. Never a good look.

 

It wouldn’t be surprising him if they got fired, he did after all break about ten rules just by stepping foot onto the soil of the states. And Zayn could care less for the consequences seeing as he would continue his line of work without the protection and reassurance of his job, Erik on the other hand was a moron.

 

The aforementioned tugged at his thin jacket and spat through his teeth, ‘My mum's gonna kill me.’

 

He didn’t have to come. Zayn isn’t sure why he did, but the punk had spent the better part of a week trying to catch Zayn’s attention as his new partner since he had broken his old one’s jaw.

 

‘Did you hear me Malik?’ Erik queried waiting for Zayn to lift his lashes towards him ‘my mum is going to kill me. She’ll ruin my life!’ his fingers were scritching restlessly through the mane of his baby blonde hair.

 

‘You’re a 30 year old man. How much damage can she do?’

 

‘I live with her! You’d be surprised.’

 

‘So move out.’ Zayn suggested with shrug before moving his attention elsewhere. If anyone needed mediation on who was getting killed it was Zayn. He had defied the orders of his boss, and best friend. A best friend who was a lot bigger and bulkier and stronger than Zayn’s thinner build.

 

A best friend with a much bigger fist, and maybe he deserved it. For all he knows he fucking up this entire mission just to gratify his satisfaction. This wasn’t a scene, but it was a sham, and the news of it was sure to reach V.E.C. Headquarters in no time.

 

All he got out this lead was a load of bloody disappointment. When he and Erik broke down the front door of the suspected house, they found the scrawniest prune with pack of dead-she-bitches swarmed around him, a snobby prune in a stained tank top and pineapple underwear.

 

His mouth flapped out just about everything he knew about the vampire underworld, just by Zayn raising his fist. A good technique with such poor results. He knew just about nothing. And it was just enough for Zayn to take his pint up anger out on one of the things he hated most: Vampires.

 

It didn’t occur to him how angry he was until he performed overkills on each vampire that skittered across his path. There was much more force in the swing of his jackknife, he got much more pleasure from the agony in their terrified screams, and felt much less remorse when his eyes danced upon the mangled bodies laid on the ground of the shabby apartment complex.

 

Erik could have stopped him, but he was busy temporarily stunning a few of the birds and piling them in unconscious heap in one corner. What with the way he had no guards and a flock of dead bitches around him, he had it coming anyway. In this neighborhood if the V.E.C. didn’t kill him, the streets would’ve.

 

Erik was the one who had said the last line out loud, and he was fine at first, pumped to even be out and about with Zayn, until the Foreign Alchemy team shown up, that is.

 

That left Zayn in a darkened alleyway that reeked of century old piss with no further leads, and the pleasurable company of nine body bags and his rookie partner who seemed to be a having full blown panic attack.

 

Upper body hunched over, head between his knees as he took in noisy breaths. All while Zayn truly didn’t give a shit.

 

So...

 

If he were Liam he’d kick his ass too.

 

The sudden sound of his cell ringing caused Erik’s head to jerk up and clunk against the nearest object it could find. Probably a fire escape latter; His pained groan joined the quiet sounds of the agents’ footsteps when they occasionally stepped in a puddle.

 

It was almost comical how fast one of the F.A. agents pulled out a small digital device and maneuvered it over Erik’s head to assess his health. Man, what he would give to bang his own head and slip into a coma.

 

The thought really registered when he spotted the caller ID on the screen of his work phone: Liam.

 

His heart slammed against his ribs in sync with the painful seconds it took for the jingle to stop ringing and send Liam to voicemail.

 

Erik must have recovered, ‘Fuck! That hurt.’

 

Zayn sighed and pushed off the wall, running his free hand through the lengthening quiff of his hair as he watched the now blackened screen with intent. He almost jumped when it began to ring again. Zayn squirmed under the feel of his partner’s hazel orbs, but did his best not to show his discomfort.

 

‘You gonna answer that?’ he says on the third ring, and it pushes Zayn.

 

He swiftly slid his finger over the screen ‘Hello?’

 

‘Zayn,’ Oh the calmness

 

‘Liam.’ He said feigning surprise

 

‘Good to know you’re alive.’

 

‘Yea, the air is so dangerous here. I’m barely breathing.’

 

‘Sass is intact, that’s good.’

 

‘I’m fine.’ He assured kicking nearby beer can into a dirty pot hole of water. His throat closed up as nostalgia crept upon him in a fresh wave. He was far from home.

 

‘You know we’re going to talk about this?’

 

A sigh ‘just get it ov-’

 

‘Have you gone mental? Tell me Zayn, have you completely lost the bleeding marbles of what’s left of your brain?’

 

……..

 

 

…

 

 

..

 

 

‘Not yet.’

 

‘You’re lying! I can hear the lie on your breath from here. You know that these ridiculous impulses you’ve been having lately are complete and utter madness and yet you proceed to follow them. What the hell’s the matter with you?’

 

Zayn pinched the skin of his nose as he tried to gather his wits ‘Liam.’

 

‘You go off the fucking grid for two days and then turn up in the states with no authorization, and then put the safety of you handler at risk. He is with you yes?’

 

 

‘He is my _partner_ Liam. I do not need a handler. And yes.’ He huffed kicking another beer can with much more force than needed.

 

 

‘What did you do?’

 

‘Remember that case we had for Saint Louis, Missouri?’ He asked and waited for Liam to grunt in reply. Zayn remembers vividly himself.

 

He, lounging sideways in Liam’s cushioned office chair, Liam babbling on about a girl he was courting, and the stack of files pilled about messily on top of one another on his desk. If Zayn weren’t so taken with the one case on top of them all, he might have teased Liam for his untidiness.

 

‘Well, I took it.’

 

‘That was nothing Zayn. It could have been a rumour for all we knew. ’ He all but yelled into the receiver ‘Did you get anything?’

 

 

‘No, no. all the vamp did was cry, piss himself and yap on about something to do with a king.’

 

 

‘THAT’S NOTHING!!!’

 

 

‘I Fucking KNOW Liam, you don’t think I figured that out. You don’t think I’m pissed as well. I want this just as much as you do, if not fucking more. These fanged fucks murdered my family Liam!’ he burst out before yanking the phone from his ear to drag in air through his teeth. ‘The fucking nerve…’

 

It was easier to pretend when others were around. Easier to believe that he didn’t feel like he was free falling in a bottomless pit. He was so fucking lost it burned his brain whenever he tried making sense of what he was feeling. No one understood it, he didn’t and neither did Liam. It left him alone. He had no anchor to pull him safely to the ground, nor did he have a futon to keep him afloat. And to face that, whatever that was at the bottom of that pit alone, scared the shit out of him. He tried to bring himself back to reality by focusing on the team working around him.

 

The Alchemist agents dressed in dark trench coats surveyed the area for further residue involving vampires, and several gathered around Erik to antagonize him the same as they had Zayn earlier. Yea it was easier when others were around. It was also easier to feel invisible. Just by wearing his demeanor, he could tell that the agents didn’t attempt to approach him out of the notion that they’d get an ear full of nasty had they approached him now. It was probably true. They seemed like decent people.

 

Had Zayn’s nerves been smoothed down he would have treated them with a little more respect. What with the overwhelming piss odor, the constant wailing of sirens in the distance, and unconscious vampires pissing him off he would’ve been dandy.

 

It was only when he heard the calm baritone of Liam’s voice did he bring his phone back to his ear.

 

 

‘I get it.’

 

 

‘Do you?’ He demands, his voice coming out more strained than calm causing him to clear his throat.

 

 

‘I understand.’ And he could picture Liam now, pinching his chin as he paced in a slow circle. Something he always did while having conversations on cell phones. He was probably nodding his head as if to say ‘I know,’ but he didn’t.

 

 

‘You don’t.’ he says flicking the burnt out cigarette butt out onto the dark gravel of the ground. He only remembered he had it when the shaking of his hands got so bad.

 

 

‘Okay I don’t, but as your friend, and your boss. I’m trying to understand this, whatever this is.’

 

 

He grunted ignoring Erik’s concerned gaze over the shoulder of a bird agent.

 

 

‘I need to know I’m not alone. Yeah? You have to promise you’re trying too? And you can’t just go off the grid like that, go off on your own while commandeering an intern like Erik Henrick. Seriously?’

 

 

Zayn chuckled halfheartedly at the disbelief in his tone ‘you stuck me with him.’ His eyes glancing to the young man who had just decided to pull on the collar of one the F.A. agent's jackets just to annoy them.

 

 

‘Well knowing a bit about your behaviour you deserve him, ‘and Zayn hadn’t the heart to disagree. ‘The Alchemist are there yes?’

 

 

‘Yea,’ He breathed scratching at the back of his neck and turning his check towards the front of the alleyway where people walked by but spared the smallest glance down toward them.

 

 

‘Look, grab Henrick and ditch them as fast as you can. If the American government catches wind of this i perfer you two to be here. I want your arse back in London ASAP. No funny shit I mean it.’

 

 

Zayn smirked and planted his feet to the ground. ‘And if I don’t? I’ve always wanted to see what the hype of New York was all about.’

 

 

‘Don’t piss me off Zayn.’

 

 

‘Or what Liam?’ he replied on a sigh. ‘You’ll hang up the phone and ring my mommy?’ and it was perfect. At first. It came out with the right dip and the necessary places, but held a bite to it that was a tad bit unnecessary.

 

 

Silence

 

 

Liam didn’t deserve it, and it was all Zayn could do not to try and hug him through the phone. He was beginning to regret a lot lately.

 

 

‘We’re not discussing this over the phone. Get here right now before work up the strength to punch you when I see you.’

 

 

‘Yeah, yeah,’ he murmured briefly wiping his wet nose on the sleeve of his wool jacket.

 

 

‘And Zayn,’ Liam called just as Zayn was about to end the call ‘Please don’t make me find you.’

 

   <><>><<><>                                                                                                                                    

 

It was surreal being in America for the first time, ears perking up when hearing the way they spoke, eyes widening when he observed the towering skyscrapers, and begrudgingly sighing whenever Erik demanded his picture to be taken.

 

The memorable would probably be when he had stood in front the Silver Arc in Saint Louis and outstretched his oversized limbs. The land mark isn’t what made it though. Zayn could still feel the glee that flooded him when innocent bystanders witnessed Erik loose complete control over his own body, tipping over in a way made for comics. Kid didn’t know his own strength.

 

It was a great distraction for a while. He didn’t have to think about the death of his family without an actual purpose for do doing so. He didn’t want to. So maybe that’s why he took the case to begin with. Nothing about it spoke to him and said ‘This newborn idiot knows what you don’t.’ Nothing immediately grabbed his attention and made his body warm up with anticipation, if were any more numb he’d have to be dead.

 

In fact when someone had finally gotten Liam to leave his office, and gave Zayn the opportunity to look a little closer a the file, a vague feeling told him that just by looking at the monochrome photo of him, the shirt he had on, the large amount of money he attained, the ray bans he wore inside fancy restaurants, that he was just an excuse. The guy was a pansy with a loaded purse.

 

He knew that the only reason he did it was to try and achieve a task that seemed so far away distant galaxies would be jealous. The anniversary of the fire was creeping closer and closer, and he was just as close to solving whatever riddles their deaths held, as he was the night they were murdered. It was for his family, justice, he did it all for them.

 

 

 

On the better days when he wasn’t cursing everything including life itself, he could see families of four playing in parks and not turn his head; he could hear their laughter and not wonder why the world could be such a happy place for them, but a shit hole for him. Or wonder why he and a hand full of others got exposed to the uglier parts of life and not the pretty ones.

 

It was a step he promised to take for Mary Ann. One that promised he wouldn’t shut himself off from the entire world because of a wry twist of fate. ‘It always means something.’ She had said.

 

And he succeeded most of the time by not getting angry with the accidental brushes he get while riding the tubes, or when someone decided to openly stare at him while he walked past, or by maybe even responding when someone called ‘bless you.’ after he’d sneezed.

 

 

He’s almost certain people have lost their families too, faced death with a straightened shoulder, and maybe even experienced the darker parts of life that he had but he doubted the last one. He should give people props for even trying to deal with his grumpiness especially when they attempted conversation when he clearly had the least desire to participate in.

 

They were random strangers at times, and also his fellow interns. He did at least pretend to care most of the time, pretend to laugh at meaningful jokes that should have meant things to him, and pretend like he loved spending time with them.

 

 

The thing about Zayn is that he might not know a lot, might not care to know anything, but he knows he’s a walking contradiction. Many have told him this. It’s when he knows he done a great job of pretending that he gets the people around him to stop trying at anything to cheer him up, he longs for those moments when they leave him be. Where he can hear his own thoughts now that the fake laughter is gone, but when he’s awake at night, quietly resting in his large bed in his vacant bedroom, he where he has no thoughts.

 

He had taught himself a long time ago not to think before sleeping unless its nightmares he fancy’s waking up to. He would purse his lips at the nothingness. Swear that he could hear faint static ringing at the back of his head, and then long to escape his body, soar into the cracks of his shades and out into the night air into space, Hogwarts, Never land, he didn’t care; the silence somehow being far too much for him. But it’s what he's always wanted right?

 

<><>><<><> 

 

Almost immediately after the death of his family he changed. When people would ask Mary Ann, who had graciously adopted him as she said she would, about his behaviour she would give an excellent excuse, only she had the slightest clue herself. She even voiced that maybe it was because he was going to be charged with the death of his family, but he couldn’t even answer it. It was like a whistle broke inside his body, the strong steady noise giving out and reduced to a pitiful barely there shrill. It didn’t take him long to realize that his family always kept him ringing.

 

His head was always buzzing around with the life they poured in him if he refused to do it himself. And maybe it terrified him hearing the sound of brokenness that gave him nightmares. Or maybe it was the rapid pounding of his heartbeat whenever he awoke from them that caused him to cry harder than the day they died, or maybe it was the fact the he couldn’t hear his own screams when he’d realize Mary Ann was shushing him and cooing that she was there. Zayn knew it could’ve been a lot of things causing the nightmares, but whenever he calmed down enough for a glass of warm milk, he’d remember the eyes of the creature above his bed. And then the anger would come.

 

 

It’s not like he was big on saying a lot before the fire, never answering with more than single vowel sounds or words over three words. He knew it was different. The only person he talked to was Mary Ann, and it frustrated the fuck out of his teachers.

 

Zayn remembers when he tried to tell the fireman his name and couldn’t get a word out, and at first it was accidental. For a while he had actually lost his voice, that is until he found it in Mary Ann and utilized it for better.

 

 

When the court had no evidence to suggest that he willingly set his family on fire, he was found not guilty. They apologized to he and Mary Ann, granted her custody, gave him condolences and wished him well, all while promising to keep an eye on him for a couple of weeks. It had only proved that most of them didn’t believe he was innocent and it was like a big Fuck You! With a ribbon bow wrapped around it. Mary Ann promised that all he had to do was stay out of trouble and then they’d leave him alone. Easier said than done.

 

 

Zayn got his first suspension for punching Thomas in his face with jaw breaking force. You might say it became a trademark. He didn’t intend to do it of course, but he didn’t intend to be called a terrorist while he coloured burnt orange into the wing of a butterfly, he had drawn at Mary Ann’s askance since she had never seen his work. He would have guessed something like that was going to cause him to snap, but he never knew when.

 

When he had come back to the school the teachers gave him funny looks, the kids never verbally complained about being sat next to him, but they wanted too. They would whispers hissing behind his back when they thought he couldn’t hear and it was okay. For some reason he knew it was going to be Thomas that caused him to titter off the edge of sanity.

 

 

Thomas Pfaff, who was born in the same hospital as he was, on the same floor as he was, same week, and lived almost directly across the street from him. Their paths were always bound to cross. When Zayn started grade school Thomas was there, all blue eyed and baby blond gel coated hair. As soon as he caught sight of Zayn doodling on the back of one of his notebooks, he started towards him and stuck out a determined hand. When he sat down next to Zayn he smelled of strawberry Pop Tarts and apple cinnamon spice.

 

He talked to Zayn even when others clearly wanted his attention, telling him about the Grimm Brothers books his mum bought him, and obnoxious amount of coloured mechanical pencils his parents bought for him as well. Zayn listened with caution noticing that he was dressed nicer. He wore a tucked button up shirt while Zayn wore a black Turtleneck; he had pressed pants, while the knees in Zayn black jeans were beginning to wear. He also had nicer utensils, better grammar, and a fancy hold all Zayn swears he saw once in one of his Mum's magazines.

 

 

And even then at that age, he was positive whatever Thomas was getting out of talking to Zayn…it wasn’t going to be a pretty aftermath for him. He was right. After they began growing into who they were they grew apart. In school that is. Sometimes Zayn would find himself around other artist in art class on free periods, when Thomas and his jockeys would pass by the doors saying the most absurd things about the subject. Sometimes they’d even call out an artist by name just to embarrass them, but as you can guess Thomas reserved his quips just for Zayn.

 

He always tried to get under Zayn' skin by bringing up his glasses, his paint stained pants, and tease him saying that if he didn’t quit painting they wouldn’t be friends. Ridiculous. But later Zayn would come home and successfully climb the way up his tree house without injury and find Thomas there sitting at his desk with a glint in his eyes as he flipped the pages of doodles and drawing Zayn usually abandoned for later.

 

 

‘These are brilliant.’ He would say, standing up to give him a welcoming hug. ‘You should show these to someone other than the ceiling of your tree house. It might be worthwhile.’ Although flattering it always made the blood burn underneath his skin, because it wasn’t the first time and it was surely not the last. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take it much longer.

 

 

So maybe it’s because Zayn shut everyone not of import out. It could have been his lack of emotions, or the fact that he barely spoke a word to people he clearly gave two shits about, whatever it was it had finally tipped Thomas over the edge. Zayn remembers the sound of his ragged breathing when he failed to get Zayn attention away from the painfully detailed butterfly. He began like he always did treading lightly with little things probably just to get the classmates laugh going a bit.

 

Zayn could see that some of the kids were afraid to even look at him, some laughing because they were pricks just like Thomas, but some were wary and sympathetic giving Thomas nasty looks as he went on about how nerdy Zayn’s glasses were. He had after all just lost his family. It probably bothered Thomas more that when he came up to stand behind him Zayn didn’t acknowledge his presence like he usually did and that’s when he started to land some pretty low blows.

 

 

When he caught sight of what Zayn was colouring, he crowded into the space over his shoulder and cackled, ‘Is that a butterfly Zaynie? Man you’re so gay.’ It was a miracle Zayn stopped himself from actually growling when Thomas ripped the pad from beneath his steadily shaking hands.

 

 

Thomas stood on a chair and waved the drawing around like bait for a pack of blood hounds ‘Hey! Look what this queer decided was acceptable to colour when you’re a boy. He’s such a princess it’s ridiculous.’  

 

 

Zayn didn’t react too bad, just sat there pinching the bridge of his nose, because like always Thomas had become an attention whore. He and half the class were apparently selectively illiterate if they couldn’t spot the neat cursive font that read ‘For Mary Ann.’ in bold black across the top. Even though he stayed put, back turned to the classmates behind him, what bothered him the most was that Thomas had the nerve to call him a princess when he was positively hooked on the sound of his own voice.

 

 

‘For Mary Ann.’ He read aloud ‘that old bat. I heard her husband left her because she couldn’t have children. I bet Mrs. Patts had no idea she’d be raising a terroristic faggot for a son.’ He snarled and that was it. A single fist flew to hit him square in his jawbone.

 

 

The last time he saw Thomas Pfaff, he was holding an oversized ice pack to his cheek, moaning along the way while he was being wheeled towards an ambulance. That was actually the last day he’d seen any of his school mates for that matter seeing as Mary Ann swooped in and immediately announced she would enroll him in homeschooling. Zayn would have thought his violent outburst would have caused more retaliation from his fellow students as he and Mary Ann stood outside with a couple of the officers that were present at his court hearing, but a group of students came running up to the officers and stopping just shy of them on the stone steps. Zayn moved closer Mary Ann’s side and dipped his head waiting for them to throw angry insults at him for punching their friend.

 

‘You can’t take him to prison, he’s done nothing wrong!’ one of them shouted while eyeing the handcuffs on the hip of the tall policeman.

 

 

Zayn’s head shot up and then back down, instantly overwhelmed by the amount of people looking at him. One of the officers fanned a hand ‘Easy Rambo. No one’s harming the kid.’

 

 

‘Well good, Tom never knew when to shut his trap. I reckon he’ll think before he speaks next time. If he can.’

 

 

‘Yeah, that wanker had it coming for a while now. It’s about time someone put him in his place.’ Now that was a voice he knew. Her name was Monika Priest, the pretty ebony skinned girl he always got partnered with in World English. He would often find himself fascinated with the colour her dark golden hair turned when sunlight hit it, intrigued with the way her eyes lit up when she had to read in front of the entire class, plus she had two piercings in each of her ears. Sassy for a daughter of a Priest.

 

 

‘Are these friends of yours, darling?’ Mary Ann asked with a certain kind of warmness to her voice. She squeezed his shoulder to get him to look up at her.

 

 

‘Yeah, we’ve got his back.’ A boy he recognized as Bradley declared before he could begin to stutter. The boy was puffing up his chest towards the smaller police officer who happened to be swallowing a doughnut whole. ‘Against anyone.’

 

 

‘You’re a cute kid. I’ll bet you’re the family favourite.’ The officer said with a smirk. And it must've irated Bradley the way the older man flicked the red winter scarf he had sure enough tied around his head, if the way his tiny hands swung at the officer’s offensive arm.

 

 

‘Anyway, you shouldn’t brand him as a crook,’ Monika went on as if she were never interrupted. ‘Tom made fun of his drawings and called him names. Zayn was fine until Pfaff started on you Mrs. Patts. Said some nasty things, he even almost ripped your drawing. Oh, here you are.’ she dug through her plaid book bag before stopping to root through her jean pockets. When she finally pulled out a folded sheet of paper she stuck her hand out with a smile.

 

It was the drawing, Zayn knew. He heard Mary Ann gasp in awe when she opened it, and would’ve guessed there were tears in her eyes. Zayn was sure it was lost in the scramble to get him off of Thomas, he couldn’t go back to look for it since he was immediately escorted out of the room as if he were a fire hazard.

 

 

‘It’s beautiful, honey.’ She praised clutching her chest. It was crinkled is what it was, littered with dark dirt imprints from boots it probably attained when people were crowding around he and Thomas. But she was smiling so it counts.

 

 

‘It’s a rough draft.’ He whispered and heard a collective of gasps as he made for the drawing. He finally spoke in front of them. ‘I could do it over. Better.’

 

 

‘No it’s perfect,’ she said dangling it out of his reach. ‘Thank you so much!’

 

<><>><<><> 

 

After that, it became apparent that one of his main goals in life was to please Mary Ann as if she were his own mother. She may as well have been. So he finished elementary schooling with an easy breath, went on to do high school just as quickly and then earned himself a great opportunity to be an English teacher. He even began painting landscapes, and selling them to help out with the money if she needed it. And it would have worked if his sights weren’t set elsewhere. He used to wonder if he were on the right path with this teaching thing, and if he had actually hallucinated whatever he’d seen hovering over his bed, because although life without his family sucked at most, he had a pretty great one with Mary Ann.

 

She fed him whatever he wanted, didn’t force religion on him, treated him like ancient jewelry, and made him feel like his life was meant to be spared. That he was meant to live. And as cliché and horrible as it sounds they fit each other just right, like the jagged pieces of his broken heart slowly paired up with the remains of hers. And it felt so strange that it made him ponder the fate thing that she’d said when he had woken up from that nightmare. Made him think that maybe she was never meant to have children and that, maybe, just maybe, fate threw a monkey wrench in both theirs just lives to bring them together. Closer. And maybe he was always meant to be her son in the first place.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

It was just a couple days until he would start training to become qualified to be a substitute teacher and as if they hadn’t celebrated his success enough, Mary Ann wanted throw a party. This one bigger with the entire circus lot she called her family. They moved to London now and Zayn was out buying ingredients for the cake and other groceries she demanded needed to be there.

 

Zayn was paying attention to his surrounding having gotten used to this part of town, he was actually too busy contemplating how he was going to deal with his crazy ass cousins knowing the last time he celebrated anything with them most of them got so pissed they put Ireland to shame; Tripping over air, literally picking up random birds when they walked passed them on the sidewalk, and then crashing in the middle of a busy intersection. After a while Zayn decided to take whatever the family threw at him because it’s not like he had any of his own, why not just enjoy it. He turned down a rather darkened street where there was little to no traffic, or even porch lights on for that matter.

 

It left him with the thoughts his brain produced which were a minimum and the song of crickets with occasional barks joining the chorus. It should have bothered him, but it didn’t. Zayn welcomed the smell of wet pavement mixed with the pleasant scent of his Yardley soap as it floated up his nose like little puffs of imaginary cinnamon clouds. He let his eyes count the stars as he used the moonlight for guidance when the streetlights above flickered off and on.

 

 

It wasn’t until he came to a crossroads, did he hear it. There, beneath the gentle whips of whistled wind, and the call of the animals around the neighborhood, he somehow picked up the sound of a faint whimper. It could have passed for the sound a dog would make after its refused attention, but it was more….human. His careful footsteps brought him to the next block where the mewling became louder, and a snarl sounded.

 

It caused his heart to speed up twice its expectance when he finally came to a stop; the noises being too hard to ignore. It was now, as he listened a little closer to the atmosphere around him where he wondered why he had to take the long way home. Why had he attempted a long walk to clear his head when there was clearly nothing on it?

 

 

His eyes scanned the ground beneath and ahead of him, darting at every skitter of stray leaf, and glaring at every sudden sound. The skin on the left side of his neck prickled and Zayn knew from the countless times he ignored someone’s attempt to get his attention, what it was. Someone, something, was glaring a searing hole right where the skin had prickled into goose pimples now, and the growling was louder. Man if this is a dog he was so fucked.

 

 

Zayn slowly turned his cheek to peer down pass the side of the large family home and in into the driveway. He frowned. He couldn’t see anything out of ordinary, but that’s where the prickly feeling is coming from and it’s definitely where the soft cries were emitting from. He looked over the pretty purple leaf that just happen to fall in a puddle near the side of the house, over the green grass that somehow appeared greener in the low light from the porch light behind the house, then finally to the shed at the end.

 

It was dark down there, the white finish of the garage being the only thing visible, but from the large dark space it was clearly carless and….open. Another soft yowl sounded nearby and he almost balked the fear in its tone causing his heart to squeeze dramatically. Where the hell was it coming from?

 

 

Zayn knew he could leave. He was positive he wasn’t stuck in an episode of the Twilight Zone, and that he wasn’t under some type of hypnotic that caused him to go into temporary paralyses. So why didn’t he leave? He could turn around right NOW. Just leave had his legs not felt more like cement the flesh. They could have just fallen asleep. A logical answer that he went with. Maybe they just need a wakeup call.

 

 

Then his entire body jerked with the sound of a loud Crash! As a healthy looking cat sprang from the ledge of the back porch, and succeeded with ramming its head right into the center of a metal trash bin. It should have been funny when the tabby groaned in annoyance, but it just scared the living shit out of him. It was only when he put the sound of the top clattering with the image of it spinning to a stop did it register that he had dropped a handful of bags to clutch at his heart. Stupid cat.

 

 

The pussy cat had recovered its fumble slowly and began to amble towards the outside of the garage when it suddenly hissed and did a 180 before it decided to haul ass nearly ramming its way past Zayn legs to get away. He let his gaze follow after the frightened cat, absolutely certain that his face showcased his emotions. And it was strange. The way the air was suddenly still, how the crickets had stopped singing, and how the dogs had stop barking.

 

It was so familiar, so weird it was the air was being punched out of him. So quiet. It reminded of that estranged memory he couldn’t seem to remember the night his family was murdered, and yeah he should definitely leave now. By the way his cell was vibrating against his leg Mary Ann was getting pretty anxious.

 

 

There was a sudden prominent movement in his peripheral vision and he was absolutely certain that if he’d looked back to the space he scanned before, there was going to be someone there. The thought made his gut twist uneasily; because not only was he unarmed he was carrying five bags full of things like celery, plastic spoons, Styrofoam plates, and cooking wisps. Real weapons.

 

 

The whimper was stronger now, of course, and the louder growls were indications themselves. So Zayn sucked it up and peered down the driveway, eyes looking for the anomaly causing his body distress. He couldn’t find it at first, the street lights on the next street behind were now flickering, but the porch light cast no abnormal shadows, there was no water displacement, and the leaves were even still, and maybe he was finally losing his mind completely. He may have announced that aloud and probably let himself believe for a good three seconds until a twig snapped near the wooden fence bordering the territorial lines between the two homes.

 

 

He should have prepared himself. You never should look at things you aren’t ready to see, a valuable lesson he thought he learned way back when he saw his house burning in the distance. He and Mary Ann had even though he gained asthma for a while until her figured out how to control it.

 

But now as the air rushed up his nose, he was certain he knew nothing at all, because low and behold, there were two people there. And unless he truly is going bat shit, he was certain they weren’t there a second ago. When Zayn caught sight of the couple he had to cough out the air that seemed keener on the idea of chocking him to death than giving him life.

 

 

He could make out the shapes of a female, a pretty blonde with highlighted hair, heavy makeup, and short clothing. She was looking directly at him, a pleading look of sorts in her gunk covered eyes as the man caressed her sweetly, lips attached to the side of neck less visible to him. And Zayn suddenly got his balls back. He was about to tell the fucker to piss off, because she clearly wasn’t enjoying whatever fuckery he thought she liked. But then the man looked at Zayn and his heart stopped.

 

 

It literally stopped, he knows because it was no longer leaping up to occupy the space where his eardrums rested. Shit, he couldn’t breathe either.

 

 

The muscular man peered over at him with annoyance written all over his face. He had a hand placed securely over the top of the girl’s lips smothering her as she whimpered, but that’s not what gave Zayn partial cardiac arrest. His eyes. They were glowing, fucking glowing!

 

A swirl luminescent with colours that should have fascinated him, but obviously did the complete opposite.

 

Then suddenly his heart kicked back into motion. Maybe he was hallucinating, maybe he’s always been hallucinating, but it was hard to say when this thing was looking dead at him, and with the way he was running out of oxygen as he watched this man rip his mouth from the side of her neck. Like literally ripped.

 

 

Something tore, the sound of it shocking, and if by the way she gave way to a loud agonized bellow, it was no doubt the sound of her flesh ripping. Then she had stopped struggling altogether, and gone still.

 

 

Zayn did drop all the bags then, trying to think of anything to do with his hands, ‘Holy shit.’ He peered right into the mouth of the man, and was certain that the dark substance dripping steadily down the corners of his mouth were her blood.

 

 

He  couldn’t place his feelings, they were exactly something he had welcomed the since that night, but he recognized the regret for walking the long way home, the nervous bile rising in his throat, the fear, no the terror of staring into those eyes.

 

They were almost exactly like the ones he’d seen before, only a different colour. And yeah, Zayn should be happy that he wasn’t as crazy as everyone thought he was, that he truly didn’t sleep walk and set his family on fire, that his memories weren’t fooling him, but it was a little hard to celebrate when you’re about to pass out, loose your lunch and defecate yourself all at once.

 

 

Of course he’d find one of its kind and be scared shitless.

 

 

A long tongue poked out to pick the blood in its line of reach, before he turned half his body towards Zayn. What was probably 5 seconds felt like 500 years, because he’d never get used to those eyes. It was like looking in them brought air into his lungs just as they took it out. He had to stop the hypnotic pull of the purple and pink swirls.

 

Then the man was smirking at him, and stepping out of the girl’s space, who was obviously out cold now. And a selfish part of Zayn hoped that she had enough energy to run, until a loud _crack!_ filled the night air. Her body fell limply to the ground. Not a great idea, but he couldn’t exactly stop when his eyelids fluttered close lithely. His entire world had been flipped in the matter of 45 seconds.

 

The man stepped out of the shadows in into the light the back porch cast on the drive way pavement. His face not one you’d see while walking around the streets of London unless it had something to do with Vogue Magazine even with blood dripping down his sharp chin, his hair was a tangled mess atop his head, and his stained lips were puckered in a smug smile.

 

His eyes, though they were no longer glowing in that funny way, they shined anew now with a glimmer of recognition. He tilted his head a bit, and then crossed his arms over the wide expanse of his chest. ‘Oh, this is brilliant.’

 

 

‘Wh-huh?’

 

 

‘This is my lucky day. I’m convinced. I could cry if I really wanted,’ and was that a fake tear he was wiping?

 

 

And Zayn couldn’t bother answering with the blood rushing through his body too fast. It seemed to like the hollow of his ears since it settled there. He could breathe but now he couldn’t control his heartbeat. His stomach twisting as the organ performed like overdrive was the only optional pace. And if the pressure building along the sides of his head kept it up he was positive permanent damage would ensue.

 

 

‘Haz will kill me for this, but I’m gonna kill you first.’ he says in a menacing matter, but the man was on the ground before he could get the sentence out good.

 

Zayn would have registered the bright flash if he weren’t already seeing them behind his eyes. The air rushed out of his lungs and up the passage way of his throat. The hell just happened.

 

Before he knew it there was a burly curly haired man next to him, lifting his chin this way and that, before stealthily moving over to the unconscious _thing_ who had a large syringe protruding from his chest, and to the dead girl next.

 

When the blood finally left his ears he recalled having a blanket thrown over his shoulders and the man saying his name was Liam Payne before he handed him a water bottle.

 

 

<><>><<><> 

 

 

That night might have been glorified for Liam saving his skinny arse, but it was also the night he helped Zayn’s mold, whatever shell of himself he was living in, change yet again. Liam and a group of V.E.C. officials had found the notorious vamp, and took him to headquarters for….examination. Liam being the sweetheart that he was, looked Zayn over and instead of doing something like knocking him out, or killing him for knowing too much, he took one look at Zayn and lulled him to the passenger door of the black van.

 

The drive to headquarters was a little awkward tense and passive, but it’s where Liam explained to Zayn what exactly he’d just seen. It was there in the cafeteria of the building over the chatter of meaningless conversations, chimes of cell phones, cackles of laughter and spilled grape soda is where Liam spilled out everything he knew about vampires to him. And he was grateful because he knew he must have looked as desperate as he felt.

 

It was as if confirmation from someone who seems perfectly sane would seal the deal and his fate in some way.

 

 

Among the many creatures that walk the face of earth with humans, the undead sat next to you in nightclubs. Vampires were real; they were retaliating against whatever laws they were sworn to and were killing in packs. Now that night may have been years ago, but they still know more about the Bermuda triangle disappearances than they did vamps.

 

The people that worked for V.E.C were all scarred in some way from the vampires, and they longed for answers and justice, just like Zayn did. By the sounds of it, the path leading down the road of being a substitute teacher was shit covered in vomit compared to this. This was where he belonged; on that note it shouldn’t be a shock that he jumped at the opportunity when Liam offered him training for experienced field work for V.E.C.

 

 

So maybe fate was good for something after all, because if he hadn’t been thinking so hard about the party, he would’ve just gone down the main streets instead of into the slums. Had he ignored the whimpers he would have missed what was literally standing right in front of him. And if his family hadn’t died, he never would have known these things existed in the first place.

 

But maybe it’s that shitty dumb luck he hears people go on about whenever he finds time to watch the telly, but that’s a the script for love stories and Broadway plays, this is real and there was nothing lucky about seeing someone’s throat being bitten off. In fact he was sure no one could convince him that he wasn’t cursed. How else could he have had such a bad run with so none of his life lived yet? And how great was he at choosing best friends?

 

 

Face it. The thought of fate being real and coincidence not existing honesty sounds swell, and it would be great to gain the luck the Irish by finding the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, but the twisted point is that maybe none of this is luck, and none of this is fate; Zayn merely sees it as a punch in the gut, then a kick to the groin. It’s a wakeup call from the choices you make. They’re just reminding you that you had other options.

 

<><>><<><>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> firstly this was only half of one chapter because if i uploaded it all it would be super long. Anyway a massive THANK YOU to whomever decided it was worthwhile to read the crazy works of my brainjuice. the kudos are nice too. Thankyou as well to beautyindisguise for commenting your lovely thoughts. if its not obvious i am very taken with you.  
> Comments of all kind Are welcomed, in fact they are encouraged. so tell me what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im just going to leave this here.....

It didn’t take long for Zayn to ditch the tag along the V.E.C labeled his partner. Erik Henrick had followed after him like a misplaced puppy before and after they had gotten off the privet jet ol’ reliable Liam sent for them. The flight wasn’t a particularly long one to Zayn because it gave him time mull over escape routes that favored avoiding the wrath that was surely awaiting him once he came face to face with his boss. What made it particularly grueling was, of course, Erik.

 

The bugger had decided that boundaries were a thing of myth apparently since he sat directly next to Zayn on the flight, ignoring the perfectly suitable and open recliners scattered about the length of the airplane. Zayn bit his tongue, of course, instead focusing his line of thought on the texts he was sending to Mary Ann in order to make plans for her upcoming 46th birthday next weekend. It nabbed his memory from the nights mind numbing events and also took his mind off Liam, until Erik nodded off onto Zayn’s shoulder, long enough for Zayn to feel the spit bubbles leaking out from his open and snoring mouth and seeping into the shoulder of his undershirt. Zayn’s insides recoiled instantly and he couldn’t ignore the impulse to shove his head far away from his body.

Once Erik had woken up, mouth blabbing out an endless stream of apologies, Zayn immediately regretted taking action, because oh, how he longed for the silence back. Erik yammered about how much he dreaded to face his mother after he’d left without warning, how much he hated cookies and milk at that moment, how much cookies and milk reminded him of the ones his mother would have waiting for him to digest as she bludgeoned him with ‘questions she isn’t authorized to know the answer to.’

And the constant chatter reminded _Zayn_ of the reason why he punched his old partner.

Zayn’s high level of irritability has earned him a winning streak for the category of ‘shortest temper’, a sort of legendary thing since he badmouthed everybody who pestered him about cases involving nothing of his interest, or effected an entire room with the dark tendrils of his foul mood just by entering it. In the middle of the year Zayn is almost always chill, but when it comes to be around the time where the leaves start to turn, and the trees start to bare, the bitterness pours out of him like the bolts on the solid barricade holding in his emotions just decided to rust away with every ticking second.

It’s always around the time of the year where you spend the most time with your family, by far holding the most back to back holidays where you can’t turn a corner without bumping into someone you know. It’s a time where packs of toddlers use their outside experiences and fill them with leaf wars, ignoring the bugs that were probably crawling on them.

Another year was coming to a close and Zayn once again felt as though he was failing himself, his family, and Liam, so naturally it pissed him off.

Last week when he broke Colin Ames’s jaw, it wasn’t really intentional. It was just that Zayn had smoked his quota that day just by listening to him blabber about the tracking case they were on, how much Zayn wasn’t a talker and how Zayn couldn’t read, since he remained blatantly ignorant towards the No Smoking sign in his clear line of vision. By mid day they were doing field work, tailing a suspected vamp who seemed to be passing on a pathogen whenever he bites his victims, not turning them but injecting a bug that apparently killed tortuously slow from the inside out.

 

It was a case zayn wanted nothing to do with, Ames had picked it, and with him being a member of V.E.C longer and a couple years older than Zayn, he had no option but to except. And he could feel it then, the water boiling over in the compartments of his brain, hear the groan that those imaginary barriers were making as they ricocheted off the white lines of the teeth in his skull. So it could have been the fact that he very well felt ambushed into a case that a ten year old could handle, or that Ames insisted that Zayn stay back with the other agents, or the fact that Ames had cornered the Vampire, who appeared to be frothing at the mouth, and let him…. escape.

Whatever it was, it caused his fist to fly as soon as he caught sight of the salt and pepper hair style that he’d assumed ‘chicks will dig, you dig?’ Oh yeah, he had it coming.

 

It was more than often Zayn acted without thinking, so he didn’t think of the consequences for breaking a senior officers jaw, didn’t even anticipate being reassigned from field and put on a V.E.C version of probation, and didn’t really intend on rebelling against it, so it made perfect sense as to why it hadn’t occurred to Zayn to worry about his partner after he effectively lost him by weaving through the people walking in different paces and directions on the main sidewalk outside of the airport.

 

Erik Henrick wasn’t entirely helpless, besides if anything decided to attack him he could just annoy it away. The defense seemed to work efficiently well with Zayn.

 

<><>><<><>

 

                     

Zayn could tell that the night was not going to go super, and that was just from the success of ditching Erik to the silence of his own thoughts. Useless things they were, and surprise, surprise; he had caught a bigger attitude out of nowhere, due to his fucked up emotions. He wasn’t even sure if he was feeling properly as he threw his duffle into the trunk of a cabbie and then himself onto the pleather seats with a disgruntled huff before giving the driver directions. The drive was filled with the sounds of honking horns, red lights and greens lights, and the sight chattering pedestrians flooding in and out of local stores lined upon the busy streets of London.

 

Some of the people are so busy with what they’re focused on; they dart out in front of the cars in hopes of making it across before it reaches the stoplights. An everyday occurrence, but tonight some of the attempts were closer with daring determination, and it was beginning to spike at that legendary temper of his.

 

Most cab drivers are nice, others maybe not. Instead of honking the horn with an obnoxious amount of irritation, this one appeared to want to make conversation with Zayn, eyes flickering to the rearview mirror every other second and his fingers padding along the wooden steering wheel to a beat that only existed in his world. It was like the uneasiness that suddenly bottomed at the pit of Zayn’s stomach not only radiated but reflected. Zayn didn’t think about it, about anything, instead choosing to pay attention to the back of the headrest in front of him. The car smelled of Werther’s Original hard candies and cheap cologne that had gone stale by now, and if the prickles he felt beneath his thighs were any indication, the seats were beginning to gain some pretty wicked cracks in them.

 

Once they’d gotten around the herds of people and cars, and around Zayn’s neighbourhood, he’d begun itching at random parts of his body, letting his eyes play against the glass of the window as his bite ridden fingernails dug as far as they could into the palm of his hand. A bad feeling caused this and it takes every ounce of bone marrow in his body for zayn not to order the driver to pull into the nearest Marathon so he could get a fresh pack of Marlboro cigarettes since he had basically breathed through the last pack like a man starving of hunger. Thanks to Erik.

 

Now his nerves were severely racked, flayed like a burnt out light bulb that continued to sizzle, and it was the feeling he always got on field missions, when he would get that first timer anxiety, the kind that made you hunch over your knees and pray that you’ll make it back to feel the warmth of the arms of a loved one. Zayn huffed again tossing his cheek to face the window once more, because it made absolutely no sense as to why he would feel this way, if he could feel anything. He was back, unfortunately, where he belonged in London, heading back to a place he called home when he wasn’t staying in his room at Mary Ann’s house just off Primrose Hill.

 

The streets were once again wet with perspiration, since the sky decided it was best to open up and share its two cents about how it was feeling today, and Zayn could tell by the way the window fogged up whenever his breath hit it that it had gotten pretty chilly outside now that it was completely dark outside. The few people that walked about the streets close to where he lived were bundled up, and walking faster with purpose. Good, because Zayn was like two people away from telling the driver just to run them over.

 

He narrowed his eyes at the darkened shadows the night cast, where the taller poles of the street lights caused the illumination to be missed by a foot. Vampires use something as useless as a shadow with worst interest at their still shrunken hearts, using them as a defense so they would only be seen when they wanted. They exist whether you believe in them or not, and the fact that there is so much fascination from the human race with the countless films and books written about them, only promoted that the majority of those who read them, read into them, somewhat believe.

 

Humans know vampires exist with subtlebility, but they don’t acknowledge them. It’s the same with the air. We constantly breathe it into our lungs, but barely notice it until it’s presented with something like chocking or the wind howling before it shakes the plantation of a house. Better presented when it’s hitting the surface of your skin.

 

Presentation is always important when it came to them. It’s what makes the job to hunt them maddingly hard since most of them have century old self-control. After all you have to catch an animal before tag it and set it free again. They caught vampires who favored the same savagery an animal would, but were much, much more clever than them. They were the absolute bane of Zayn’s existence.

 

So lost in the blur of the green pigment in darkened bushes, Zayn hadn’t realized they’d pulled up to the address he requested. So much for willing yourself not to get lost in thought, Zayn rolled his eyes at himself before fishing his hand in his pocket and then opening the brown lapel of his worn wallet to pull a note that was probably way over what he’s actually got to pay, but why not? Maybe it made him feel just a little bit better-the way the driver’s eyes widened and then promptly did a dance between the calculations of the car and the money in his hand.

 

‘Thanks,’ Zayn muttered hopping out of the cab and swinging the door until it croaked shut. It was a habit the way his eyes scanned the area before he turned his back to face the popped trunk. When his luggage hit the ground with a faint splash, Zayn tapped the hood for good measure and began walking as the car pulled off.

 

The gates of a gated community always provided spook factors for him, yet he craved the privacy. He punched in his code and waited as the metal bars mechanically swung open like something off of a tacky low grade horror film, and its irritating as hell if you’re not in a car. So he found himself looking up at the violet indigo that was the night sky as a couple of droplets of stray raindrops pelted against the planes of his face.

 

He can’t remember the last time he’d seen the sun shine with in purpose lately, just rain, and though one of the most horrific moments of his life happened in the rain, he couldn’t refuse the calm it continued to give him. Like his cigarette without puff, and blow, or cancer. Man, he could count the fucking stars with how long this gate was taking.

 

Once he got the opportunity to move, he did; fitting himself between the narrow opening he spotted and grunting as the contents filling out the bottom of his duffle caught secondly in the narrowness like a sandwich. It caused him yank and almost land in a pothole full of muddy water, he misses but does plant the sole of his feet directly into to it when he does catch his footing. And then there’s the feeling of water filling over the top of his shoes and soaking through the micro holes between the knitting of his socks and now he’s seething.

 

He was an inch away from throwing the kind of tantrums that put the ones he used to do to shame. In fact he really wanted to hit something, hurting anything at this moment would cheer him up. Even accurately chasing after the raccoon that skittered pass and ‘accidently’ throwing it over the large gates. That’ll lighten his mood.

 

Zayn walked shaking water out of his shoes with every step, muttering in that way that he always did when it came to mud. He was not looking forward to cleaning his mud tracks up once he got settled in the warmth of his flat. A promising place where he could reheat the ligaments of his limbs, and use the hot water of his shower to melt away the knots growing stiff in the muscles of his neck from the flight, and then scrub away the feel of dirty water that left grit between the crevices of his toes, and the memory of Erik’s spit bubbles. Or drink some of that lemon flavored brew he picked up for times he felt like this…or maybe just sleep. Yeah sleep sounds fun.

 

Once he was sure the gates were closing again, he fetched his key, and moved until the back of the wooden door was behind him, and his back was pressed against it. The automatic locks clicked in place moments later. He shut his eyes and almost followed his action with resting his head there too, until he heard a familiar bark.

 

A smile curved his lips as he peeled his eyelids back to spot the sight of his Ibizan Great Dane mix trotting up to him and demanding his attention. Zayn was on bended knee in a second, welcoming the kisses the lug lapped on his face as he scritched his fingers through the tresses of fur sticking messily out of the top his head. Tetsuo was Mary Ann’s welcoming gift to Zayn when he first moved in with her.

 

There isn’t much to the story besides that she saw a box of puppies outside a thrift shop one day as she was running errands, and she noticed that the others were burrowed on one side of the box snuggling together to keep warm, one of them the color of salt and pepper sat to the farthest part of the box watching the activities around him with astute interest. As her errand list ran down, and the day went on, she noticed that one by one the other puppies were starting to disappear until the only one left was the pepper colored one was the only one left. So Mary Ann, being who she is, waltzes over with minimum grace and waited until the puppy, who had been lying down ‘in a bout of boredom and abandonment’ , finally looked up at her with the most stunning maroon coloured eyes she’d ever seen.

 

She of course carried him home with in the box that he came in. And she had said when he asked her, that she just knew that the two of them were meant to be the best pals they were today. Zayn should find that offensive now that he really understands it, he will once he works up the energy to do so.

 

Zayn still has the box and the sign that reads ‘Free Puppies’ on it somewhere in the closet of his bedroom, and maybe its just because as soon as she handed the lightweight puppy to Zayn they shared a look that resembled something of recognition and that sealed the deal. They’ve been inseparable since. And it tickles Zayn now as Tetsuo tries climbing into his lap, even though in height he’s almost up to Zayn’s elbow.

‘I missed you too,’ he promises, pecking his pooch on the tip of his cold nose, and then laughing as the giant placed-with great accuracy- his front paws on Zayn’s shoulder almost knocking him over. The fight to regain his balance causes more weight on his shoes, in turn causing the distilled water to pour out of wherever it decided to hide before. He grimaced and flexed his prickling toes. He needed a shower. And new clothes. Zayn scratched the hairs of Tetsuo’s beard before straightening out to full height again.

 

He peered down the hall of his darkened flat and sighed. The place was as he left it to Tetsuo, in fact the table littered with piles of old mail and umbrellas was probably collecting dust. This place is amazing to live in, all wide space and good height, but he knows it because whenever Mary Ann’s side comes over to visit they drool over the simplest things like the activated start up kit on the side of the wall next to the ADT alarm system, the motion activated sinks and toilets, or the remote controllable blinds in the bedrooms of it. Not to mention the fully furnished-ness it was when he first moved into it.

 

It even came with giant plasma T.Vs and the whole lot of gaming systems. It was all flattering, the house, but this place came with a price, and he paid it every time he risked his life and caught another rabid vampire.

 

A high pitched whine shook him out of his revere and he was about to ask the dog what the problem was, like he could actually answer until-

 

_Crash!_

 

Fucking hell. He already knew what it was or rather who.

 

His legs carried him easily toward the end of the hall and then to his left where the darkened social room was. Where the noise sounded. And through the weaves of the cushioned couches, and the glass table something that stuck out like a sore thumb caught his line of vision, and he couldn’t help but purse his lips. It never ends.

 

There standing near the white plastered chimney was Perrie. The hair frizzy atop her head stuck out in different angles as she it bent to hide in the crook of her arm and he could tell by the way her shoulders were shaking that she was having yet another episode. It should terrify him, like the way seeing any other girl cry would, but Zayn has come to the conclusion of something far more simplilar.

 

‘Perrie,’ he calls with a croaky voice. He really wasn’t in the mood for a fight she won’t even remember the next time she wakes up.

 

Her head snaps up—arm nearly knocking of the photos frames filled with stills like a domino effect. All of them are Mary Ann’s choosing so she can swoon over them every time she comes to visit, because it never fails—elbow just jutting shy of the one of the one they took for last years family reunion. Now with her face displayed he can see the clown like appearance the smeared make up covering the majority of her face.

 

He didn’t laugh, he wanted to, but he didn’t, instead he fixed her with a quizzical stare ‘What’s the problem?’

 

 

There was a dramatic swing of her arm then ‘The problem? ‘What’s the Problem’ you say it while actually attempting to pull off that face like you haven’t a fucking clue. Like you’re incapable of reading the words out-uh- on my lips. You have a PhD in English Literature, or something. You are the problem. You and you know it.’ She slurred trailing off to stare at the design of her Prada handbag dangling between the silver bracelets on her right arm.

 

Zayn didn’t even bother to correct her since he was getting a little more joy out of this than he expected. He spotted a new pile of mail on the coffee table nearest to him, and sifted through it ‘The letter U or I?’

 

He heard a belated noise of confusion before she exploded ‘There you go with that PhD shit again, fucking with my head to avoid the problems. What the hell is wrong with you?’

 

A question even he could never find the right words to answer to ‘It was a joke, Perrie.' A lame one, 'Remember those?’

 

‘Yeah, well you’re life’s a joke if you think this relationship is going anywhere with the way you’re acting.’

 

He spared a glance up towards her trembling form before looking back down to squint at his letters scribbled across the middle of the envelope ‘How do you mean?’

 

‘Ugh, like you don’t give a shit.’

 

And then the words you should never have to think about when you’re in a relationship with someone bounced of the walls of his brain: Do I really?

 

‘You’re drunk.’ He says instead.

 

‘No, I’m candid. And I know this thing we’ve had for two years now wont work out if you don’t stop fucking it up. You won’t even look at me, or fight with me like you care, Zayn.’

 

He pursed his lips in refusal of retaliation, but casted her a meaningful look for good measure while giving his excuse ‘I have jetlag, babe. I’m gruelingly tired and I fell in a large puddle of muddy water. Please cut me some slack, yeah?’

 

A stretch, maybe, but definitely one she caught.

 

She cocked her head to the side and pulled a scandalous face ‘You’re a shit liar Zayn. You always have been, now why won’t you fight with me?’

 

A beat ‘Because I have jetlag.’

 

‘Liar!’ she screamed covering her ears like a petulant child. ‘Liar, you lag nothing! Why won’t you talk to me? Remember how we used to talk?’

 

Vaguely ‘we are talking Perrie.’

 

‘No, you ass. I mean talk, talk. Like a real couple is supposed to. Like the couples on the telly do whenever they’re in each others presence.’ She paused only to suck in a breath ‘I’m your fiancé Zayn. We’re supposed to tell each other everything.’

 

Zayn’s insides froze…..right. he lifted his lashes far enough to catch the sequins of her shiny UGGs boots flashing brightly with compliment of the moonlight glooming on through the window behind her. So maybe that’s something he needs to mar his skin with, he’s engaged to Perrie Edwards, and has been for the past year. He seemed to forget it on the most ridiculous occasions, but now as the rock catches onto the light of the moon, and the memories flood back to the day he proposed, the same part of his brain swore it was something he’d never forget.

 

He tosses the mail so they skid safely across the width of the coffee table. Propelling of look of absolute sincerity, he mumbled ‘what do you want me to do, Per?’

 

And it takes a minute as she twists her hands into knots and lets the wheels turn in behind her eyes ‘I want us both to sit down and have a heart to heart, like we did when spilled that cuppa all over your favorite shirt. You remember that day, don’t you?’

 

A pleased noise rose from the back of his throat and a playful smile turned the corners of his lips. That was the day they first met. It was like a tether that lifted him from the area his feet felt rooted to and before he knew it he was standing before her, her breath wisping against the skin of his dry lips.

 

When he captured her lips in a kiss, he made sure to relay everything he was feeling into it, try to make stronger than he felt, because the feelings he had for her remained, this dance they’ve been twirling for the past 2 ½ years actually meant something similar to the world to him, because she was a light. And though he’s not sure her light will shine once he hits the bottom of that pit he free falls in, she’s made it abundantly clear that she sure as fuck was going to try.

 

And as long as she tried, he still cared.

 

‘I remember,’ he whispers at the corner of her of stained mouth, before delving his tongue in as if to make it a statement. He pulls back lightly gripping the tangled mess of the hair at the back of her neck as he almost dives into the blue oceans of her eyes ‘Now, as for your request, babe.’

 

And she was batting her eyes around her destroyed make up, and biting the bottom of her pink lips where the red had smeared so it was basically non existent ‘Yes?’

 

He pecks her nose before smiling ‘It’ll have to wait for another day,’ he says pulling away from her completely to straighten his back only to make several noisy complaints. ‘My neck is kicking my arse.’

 

‘Doh! You’re fucking impossible!’ she screams stamping her foot with finality, but Zayn’s already moving away by the threshold of the door where Tetsuo had been standing the entire time, since he wasn’t allowed in the room without permission.

 

‘I’m going to take a shower, yeah? Got a big day ahead of me tomorrow.’ Like getting dick whipped around by Liam. ‘You should clean up too babe, that make up is just nasty.’ He called over his shoulder.

 

‘You’re such a fucking twat!’ _Crash!_

 

 

And it caused him to whip around only to be presented with the sight of scattered pieces of what appeared to be a vase. Nope. It was an urn. Perrie’s urn to be exact, and from the way she held her hands, and her body stance, he could tell that she just broke it herself. Zayn smirked and faced her.

 

‘You’re going to regret that in the morning. Or better yet now.’

 

‘Why?’ she demanded at least managing to look as irate as she sounded.

 

‘You just broke the urn filled with your cremated cat’s ashes.’ He said eyeing the grey substance underneath the rich material of the glass. She squeaked; neck turning this way and that, until she finally realized that he was telling the truth since the space between the photo of Zayn and Tetsuo and his graduation picture was vacant. She let out a horrified whimper.

 

‘My poor tinkers,’ she cried hovering over the broken urn of ashes.

 

‘You gonna be alright?’

 

‘No! It’s his fault she’s dead anyway.’ She accused, a finger protruding right at Tetsuo who actually groaned with the recognition his was getting. Zayn could feel the dog nudge the side of his hip as he moved his eyes away from the attention.

 

‘Come off it, Perrie. You know that cat was in tricky trouble half of its life.’

 

It was true, her chocolate coloured Chantilly kitten always found herself in the strangest of predicaments. Her getting stuck in the toilet hole was strange but not surprising, when she ended up in the pipes of the basement, things were a little weird for him, but when she went missing and turned up in a sewer Zayn was officially done. The cat had no self-control.

 

‘Tinkerbelle was only ever curious not tribulative,’ she croaked sweeping some of the ashes back to bunch with the mass of it with pale fingers, and it caused Zayn’s skin to crawl anew. He really needed a fucking shower now.

 

‘What’s that saying about curiosity and the cat?’

 

‘Ugh, you’re such a corny prick, Zayn. And don’t deny the way your dog used to look at Tinker. He was probably imagining what it would be like to clamp his teeth around her neck.’

 

That was his queue ‘So I’m gonna shower.’

 

She suddenly stood, pulling the bottom of her mini dress lower ‘No, Zayn please stay.’

 

‘I told ya babe, big day tomorrow.’

 

‘So you can’t take time off your stupid job as a tutor to take care of your hung-over fiancé. Fucking fancy that.’

 

‘Piss off, I just kissed you and you taste like coffee beans, you aren’t even drunk.’

 

And with that he turned out of the room sporting a genuine smile at her huff of annoyance.

 

<><>><<><>

 

 

When Zayn woke the next morning, he could still feel the cricks holding the muscles of his neck hostage. He could already tell by the lack of heat next to his right side that Perrie had already left for her early shift for the nanny job she picked up earlier this year. He peered blearily over at the glowing digital clock and promptly groaned in annoyance. It was 7:19 already, and from the urgency in the text Liam sent to him when he was taking his shower last night, he and Erik had to be there at V.E.C headquarters on time, which was less than an hour.

 

They were supposed to turn up like they hadn’t traveled around the world for a shit job or like they had a full bountiful round of sleep, or like they wanted to hear the screams of fury that surely awaited them the second they step through the doors. Zayn knew he wanted none of it, even thought about lying down for a couple more minutes and then spend extra time picking out his clothes -since this was probably his last day- just to piss Liam off, but that would only fuck _Zayn_ over in the end.

 

By the time Zayn had gotten settled into the darkness of his black GMC, it was slowly inching near 7:49. Simply put, he’s going to be late, and he blames his dog, the large brute tackling him for his toast that Perrie had conveniently left for him in the toaster. That had eventually led him to have a playful scrap with Tetsuo on the tile of the kitchen floor, soft nipping here and there, but the slightly overgrown nails of Tetsuo’s front paws were destructive at best when they slid down the front of his v neck t- shirt.

 

He had to change and then feed the dog who scarfed up the last bit of Zayn’s toast before he huffed and trotted away. Tetsuo wasn’t the ass he presented himself to be, its just that from the over grown nails, and the empty dinner bowls by the door, Perrie had probably neglected to take care of him. And Zayn may have forgotten to feed him last night, so the little ‘tude he copped at him was perfectly understandable.

 

Once the front door was behind him he wasn’t disappointed with the image outside London presented him with. Smog, and gloomy clouds and scattered puddles rippling with stray raindrops on top the pavements. It was probably true that weather affected the way you felt, because as soon as the air hit the stubble of his cheekbones that lingering playfulness he felt after petting Tetsuo’s head before he left, dissipated. It happened for no particular reason; then again, he was definitely not looking forward to whatever was awaiting him at headquarters.

 

<><>><<><>

 

 

It’s about 8:05 when he arrived at his destination. The minutes were not only wearing thin on his nerves because of the fact that if he were late it would add onto the irritation his boss would blow off on him, but in a turn of bipolar events, it suddenly became sunny. When the first patch of sun reflected a shimmering patch on the roof of the van in front of him, he leaned over the steering wheel and peered up at the clouds; they pulled back over the sun like something out of a fairytale. That really shouldn’t have pissed him off. But….it did.

 

Not only did the sun miraculously appear dumping his mood further, the people walking the sidewalks seemed to do a simultaneous sigh of relief, smiling up at the chasms the clouds produced. Zayn thought that he could feel it, even as he waited at a slow stoplight, the way the skin on their paled cheeks literally warmed to a blush. It was probably the first time in months they’ve actually felt the heat from the sun, took a break from the scarves and mittens, drunk tea on their own accord instead of using it to warm the blood in their toes. He would have been surprised if they began to peel the layers of their clothing off then and there just relish in the warmth.

 

It happened all the time in the warmer seasons, the pedestrians walking slower lost in their own thoughts, stopping to peer at a monument they’ve probably seen a million times, some of them even staring up in awe at the open blue sky like it’s the first time they’ve seen it. But it was still fall, so thankfully the light waves from the sun will die out soon enough so that he won’t actually have to hit them with his car.

 

 

Call it a habit or whatnot but he always parked his car within a block of the place he was actually heading in to. It was probably to clear his brain on the way there, prepare to extradite emotions that aren’t actually there, preparing the mask he wore with sincerity. It was probably the only time he willingly allowed himself to think, especially when he was walking to the V.E.C. building.

 

The Vampiric Exploration and Confinement headquarter may seem like it should be a massive establishment set right dab middle in the center of London, but that’s not it at all. if you remember, humans know that vampires exist, they believe in them-unknowingly encountered them on many occasions, but they chose not to acknowledge them if they are, some people think its chicken shit, and that’s kind of perfect for the founders of the system since they are kind of under oath with the government.

 

Think about this the way you would think about Area 51—How this works is that if you have an encounter with an active rogue vampire and the V.E.C. is there to save your ass the way they did Zayn’s, either you join the ranks or get your memory duplicated, which may or may not include getting beaten unconscious.—the location is hidden in plain sight.

 

Actually, if you thrive anywhere near the Isle of Dogs, you couldn’t miss it.

 

Zayn side stepped the people focused on the lit screens of their cell phones, and wove around the ones who moved around him heading in different directions, until he begrudgingly pushed himself through the glass doors of the Canary Wharf Tower.

 

 

<><>><<><>

 

 

It’s easy to drive away with your train of thought whenever you walk inside buildings like this one. Always easy to let your eyes wander across the steel beams of the glass ceiling, holding the structure together. Easy to gaze after the people sharply dressed as they scurry in different directions off to their own business. Even the floors here were drool worthy, but it wouldn’t surprise a stranger that this building was kind of the last place he wanted to be sometimes. He made sure to never show his emotions in ways that weren’t absolutely necessary courtesy of, you guessed it, Mary Ann.

 

Call it instinct, in all actuality its most likely his demeanor, but as the people who worked here or were just visited, let their gazes wander over the beauty of the massive structure, for some reason they never miss him. They always looked at him, but never came near him. And of all the things had flitting through his head at all times it was probably the best part he was here to do his job not make friends. Typically you’d have to work your ass off to even earn a job making a living in this skyscraper alone, more than likely you’d have to have busted balls before and have to be considered someone who can get the job done. Ball busters. And it’s what Zayn considers himself except he doesn’t exactly work in the Canary Wharf building.

 

That’s correct, the massive vampiric hunting superhead is right in the very building people come to do business deals, and shop for trendy ray bans and bites of beagles. Right under the noses of people who are focused on doing their jobs so they could go home and sleep. Zayn wasn’t a hypocrite; after all we know not what a god truly looks like in the face. If Jesus sat next to someone on a tube just for the enjoyment of the ride would they truly know? The point is to work freely with deceit and trickery. Everyone has heard the Van Helsing and Dracula stories, maybe Buffy the vampire slayer as well? As ironic as it is to be located in a crowd favorite building, one of the central goals of the V.E.C is that no human outside of the services should truly know that the force and vampires exist in factuality.

 

Zayn quickly side stepped the small redheaded woman in front of him and headed straight for the elevators to get whatever this was over with. This woman clearly needed to buy herself a new coat since she kept stumbling over the train of the one she was wearing. Maybe the floor was wet, he didn’t care. Once he made it, if you were wondering, he didn’t hold the doors.

 

<><>><<><>

 

 

The way the building functioned was very specific: the first floor and basement being opened to the general public, the upper floors being closed off for office working for when the company decided to make business deals with other major corporations. But it was at the very top of the skyscraper where the V.E.C regrouped, discussed and delivered. The ride up to the top was always a thrill at least.

 

The air a mixture of cream coffee, worn leather suitcases, and subtle hints of expensive perfume rushing in and out with each time the doors opened in closed. The music was always cheesy and it never did anything calm his rattled nerves. It actually tickled Zayn when heights used to be something he feared with fierceness. He wouldn’t climb anything higher than the latter on that tree house, and that was it. Maybe he rolled out of his high chair as a baby.

 

When his stop was finally lit on the panel, he realized he was alone and sucked a large puff of air through his nose before the doors groaned their way open. It quickly rushed back out at the sight that waited him. All honey eyes, baby blonde hair, and smug grin was his partner…Erik. He waited for him. Of course he did.

 

‘You’re late.’ He teased as he held up a white paper bag that promptly made Zayn’s nostrils flare at the smell. His stomach rumbled in plea. ‘This is yours.’

 

Zayn took it at once sniffing at it for recognition, his favorite omelet, and then frowned strangely at Erik ‘Liam made me get it.’ He answered as if he was telepathic.

 

‘He said you always find a way out of eating in the morning,’ Erik went on, grin morphing into a smirk. ‘And since you’re looking pretty ravenous at the poor innocent bag, I guess he’s right once again.’ He concluded turning to walk next to Zayn as he stepped out of the doors of the elevator. They started at a good pace down the first column of isle that was clear from V.E.C agents and towards the general direction Liam’s office.

 

The people around them all seemed to be in a frenzied state for some reason, agents assigned as desk workers moving to and fro as if trying to gather information for the same objective. Some wore grimaces as greetings while they waited impatiently in line at the printer…. Since when did the printer require a line? Zayn was surprised there were papers flying skyward what with the way the agents flitted form desk to desk in haste to check up with other agents.

 

He frowned and then glanced at Erik who had busied himself with pushing loose strands of his growing shag of mane out his forehead. ‘You’ve met up with him then?’

 

‘No. He texted me. Funny when uses his resources, it’s even funnier when you get a text from a stranger, at 6 in the morning, ordering you to buy an omelet. I didn’t even realize he had my personal number.’

 

Zayn actually felt a curve lift at his lips for a second. ‘He is your boss you know.’

 

‘Yeah, but he’s your best friend. My boss has never texted me before,’ His calm voice raising an octave. ‘First I risk my life with sane psychopaths and now I’m a barista? I deserve a raise.’

 

‘Erik, man, I’m sure you don’t want my comment on this.’ Zayn said dodging a metal stapler from committing a collision with his big toe. Even though he waved off the blokes hurried apologies, he could see the distant panic in his eyes. In fact the only one who appeared calm to Zayn was Erik. He was always the first to freak when some one else did, clearly he knew more than he let on.

 

‘I totally agree, man’ he answered simply and subtly curved a palm over Zayn’s right bicep. ‘You’re grumpier when you’re hungry.’ He steered Zayn in a different direction, and surprisingly Zayn just… followed.

 

<><>><<><>

 

 

As soon as Erik chauffeured Zayn into the shaded glass door of a new office space, his mouth moved before his brain could process. ‘This isn’t your office.’

 

His eyes were piercing the back of broad shoulders he knew all to well by now. The room was dark, lights imbedded in the crust of the ceiling at a cool temperature. Sunlight poured in softly through the shades of the rather large office space, only it didn’t belong to the accused. The tall brute of man took his time turning away from the view he was ogling outside the transparency of the windows, allowing stripes of the sunlight to catch his eyes when it splayed out over the entirety of his face.

 

Zayn sucked in a defiant breath. Liam. His boss, coach, best friend, brother, mentor….attacker? He didn’t look mad; in fact he looked just a little past somber. ‘Well hello Zayn, It’s great to see you too.’ He spoke using a sagacious tone.

 

‘Heh. Like you’re actually happy to see me Li,’ he muttered, fingers tightening around the paper bag in his hand.

 

‘I’m fine by the way, my morning’s been absolutely glorious!’ he monotoned as if Zayn hadn’t spoken. And Zayn just stared. Sure he didn’t look mad but he didn’t look satisfied. Hair that was usually combed perfectly down until scalp and hair were practically one was awry like a hand has been run through one time too many. Eyes that unusually shone with the promise of an eventful day, droopy with weariness. His face might as well have been a huge frown, coated with a rather impressive 5 o’clock shadow that appeared to be two days old. How the fuck was Zayn supposed to respond to this?

 

Ummm ‘and your sarcasm is brilliantly heavy….’ Zayn commented lamely turning his vision towards the office space once he received a simple blink from Liam. Being trained as such, his eyes immediately analyzed the rather vacant of the office. The scuffs on the floors, the lone safety pin beside the heater vents. In fact everything about the set up spelled out _HASTE_.

 

‘Henrick, close the door, will you? And hit the lights.’ Liam finally intoned after a heavy sigh. It was soon followed by a small click then a smaller one before crisp light spilled onto the surface of everything once hidden by darkness.

 

Zayn wasn’t a wimp, he knows this as much, he never backed sown from a showdown once since he joined the V.E.C …kicking ass and taking names? That’s how he got his badass reputation, but right now Zayn couldn’t. He couldn’t for the life of himself meet the eyes that bore into the side of his head as he continued to scope out the office space that was beginning to feel more like a cavern.

 

Eyes gracing the blank print paper abandoned scattered to the right across the floor in the upper area of the corner behind the large mahogany desk. They scanned the dusty shades that covered every sheet of window around the office. The small dented leather cushioned armchair directly behind the door where he entered, there was a small corridor to the left where coats and such must have been held before: One hanger swing gently for no reason at all. Then to the glorious desk piece right in the middle of the white speckled granite of the floor. He could smell it from where he stood.

 

It reminded Zayn much more of what he chose not to remember. But it was when he could smell the heated paper being the product of a humming printer that he gained courage.

 

‘Well,’ he sighed, pocketing his free hand, ‘go on then.’

 

When he looked up at Liam there was actually a wisp of a smile across his shaded lips ‘what?’

 

‘Let’s have it. I know you’re beyond pissed at me so just get it out,’ He pleaded. ‘I honestly don’t think I can take the silence any longer.’

 

‘Z…’

 

And Zayn almost whined as he sought out those scuff marks. Liam looked just as knackered as Zayn felt. He didn’t want to be yelled at…in fact he felt like cringing at the thought of defending his reasoning for taking action. After that bitching he got from Perrie this one was sure to be hell.

 

‘Look Zayn,’ Liam coaxed voice just a few feet away now, ‘I don’t have it in me to yell at you, nor Erik because he was just doing his job. But I need you to promise to never do that again.’

 

The darker boy shrugged ‘You know I can’t promise you anything.’

 

‘No,’ Liam said, right next to him now ‘its not that you cant, it’s that you won’t, but I need you to do it anyway. I just— do you have any idea what it would be like for me if you’d had gotten hurt?’

 

Zayn’s head whipped around to stare at his boss incredulously ‘I’m a field agent Liam. With what I do I’m meant to be in danger.’

 

His amber orbs narrowed to a glare ‘You think I’m weak?’

 

The other mans head shook violently from side to side ‘you know that’s not true.’ He trailed but zayn knew there was more. His fingers curled deeper into the paper bag.

 

His boss sucked in a breath ‘I just think that it’s a bit premature to go off without a word into God knows what could have been waiting for you. We’ve learned to never jump to conclusions. We’ve learned the hard way that just because they look weak doesn’t mean they are. What if he had company hmmm? Flocks of male vamps. What if his maker were there? You already know a vamp would have to old and powerful to make a newborn. You know they stick around to keep an eye on their newborns. What if they were there?! Jesus Zayn, you could have gotten both you and Erik mutilated….and damn it you are my responsibility,’ Liam sighed running his hands through his hair to flatten it. As promised he wasn’t yelling. He was frustrated, Zayn could tell, but his tone was akin to pleading.

 

‘What if something had happened to you, what would I have told Perrie or Mary Ann?’ He continued, causing Zayn to flinch. ‘That you tripped and landed on some teeth and bled yourself dry. You can’t do that. Go off like that without protection I won’t allow it. And of course it’s not just you…you brought Erik into this. I don’t care if he followed you and that’s not an excuse because that’s exactly what I hired him to do. But what would you have done if he’d gotten jumped by a flock of newborns Z? And it’s not like he could have done anything for you in the same situation,’ he squinted looking to the blonde leaning quietly against the door of the office. His hazel eyes looked up from where his hands were picking imaginary lint off his sleeves ‘no offense.’

 

After the boy simply responded with a shrug, Liam turned his blazing eyes back onto his silent protégé ‘you should have thought about him. You were probably being zayn and thinking ‘he didn’t have to come. I didn’t ask him to.’ Well he had to; he needed to, because I assigned him to keep an eye on you. Hell, he probably would have wanted to come anyway, because he has no field experience. And the first time being out on the open field with a vamp to hunt? You know the euphoria of that. You might have made his dreams come true but you should have noticed by now that he uses stuns to defend himself. Vamps are way faster than stun guns when they’re sober. What if they were? You should have thought that through.’ He chastised tone harder than usual.

 

And Zayn’s skin was burning with the hurt and disappointment lacing the tone of his mentor’s voice. He couldn’t fucking take it ‘ALRIGHT!’ he bellowed, the volume causing Erik and himself to flinch. ‘Shit I’m sorry Liam, I’m sorry. I’m an idiot, a twat; I make shit choices and have a fucked train of thought! I won’t do it again. I promise. Just stop being mad at me.’

 

Liam eyed him blankly clearly wagering if he should trust his word or not and that hurt. ‘Never? You promise?’

 

‘I fucking _swear_!’ he vowed eyes burning into those of his boss. For a moment Liam remained stoic until he sighed with relief and accepted the apology and vow with a curt nod. ‘Okay.’

 

Zayn let out a breath he wasn’t aware of pulling in. he must’ve held it for a while, if the dizziness buzzing around his head were indication. His fingers had pierced through the paper bag and the tips of his nails were digging into his palm as of now. He felt nauseas, cold, and empty… Was this a panic attack?

 

‘Hey,’ he distantly heard Liam say ‘you need to breathe. There’s no need for either of us to be upset now.' Zayn was unaware of the moment he closed his eyes, but felt rather than saw his body being maneuvered so he could rest his bum against the edge of the mahogany desk top. He felt the bag being gently tugged from his fingers and let his own hand do their own accord as they curled around the rift of the desk top. He held on to it like it would ground him. What was this? Was this what he had feared all along coming true? That panic fall with no end? Was it beginning?

 

‘You’re not weak Zayn.’ He heard Liam affirm right next to him. He could fell heat on both sides of his body, so they both must’ve been sitting right next to him on the desk top. Its then he realized he was slightly shivering ‘After all you been through as a child, and just the product of the man that stands before us today, fighting proudly to defend innocents, shelter them, to avenge his family. That’s amazing Z. you’re one of the strongest men I’ve ever met in my entire life and I’ve met many…..most of them would cower in your presence when it came to matching your bravery. So don’t you dare even assume you are any resemblance to the word weak. No one thinks that.’

 

Liam promised; his words strong and just as hard as they were when he was giving him a tongue lashing before, but his voice was soft, bold but laced with compromise content and everything Zayn needed to stop whatever was about spill over from sloshing out. Though he could feel the burning behind the lids of his closed eyes now…..

 

He heard breathe shuddering but he wasn’t sure who it came from at the moment ‘I’m not mad at you. I never was. I was just scared. Brave men get scared too and what scares me the most is that you don’t. it adds chinks to your armor but it scares the hell out of me Z. you throw yourself in danger and think so little about yourself as you do it. I can’t have you blazing out into battle with blind rage. Things could happen that you would never forgive yourself for doing. You could get hurt. Badly. And that….I can’t have.’

 

‘But you know that there’s always a chance of that happening anyway. I’m not perfect Liam.’ He spoke finally, eyes still shut, and words wobbly in places.

 

‘Not when I have control over it. These are vampires, the closest things we’ll ever get to the evil originating from hell. We know we can’t just jump at them and expect them not to bite. They bite when you don’t jump at all right?’

 

And Zayn’s stomach twisted quickly at the flash of swirling corneas that played across his vision. He immediately opened his eyes. So why didn’t that one?

 

‘Anyway it would disturb me immensely if you got hurt period. The guilt would never go away-’

 

Zayn frown, turning his damp eyes to his right towards Liam’s puppy button eyes, ‘Why?’

 

Liam stared right back unwavering ‘I brought you into this-’

 

‘No you didn’t.’ he snarled as the eyes flashed violently in his head again.

 

‘No. but I brought you to the V.E.C instead of stunning the memory out of you. I trained you instead of telling you to forget about it. I gave you what you wanted, the answers, and I’ve done just the same for others before you….that haven’t lived to tell you not to fall into the traps they have under my training. You’re not naïve. But you are reckless. They all were.’

 

‘I’m not them. And I told you, I won’t stray from your word anymore. I- had no right….I’m sorry Erik.’ Zayn apologized earnestly, turning to look at the hazel eyes slowly turning to meet his.

 

A smile quirked the curve of his lips ‘You don’t have to apologize to me man. Like Liam said I would have gone anyway. It wasn’t the smartest choice, but wasn’t scared of the vamps, if you remember I was more frightened of my mother’s reaction. I think I’ll have nightmares for the next week.’

 

And Zayn couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the poorly concealed. Whatever his mother did or said to him was his business. And then as his leg started a light swinging motion, it caused the hill of his dress shoe to drag across a piece of copy paper. The room came back to Zayn’s attention suddenly. ‘So,’ he started, turning his attention back onto his boss, who was smiling fondly into space. ‘This is definitely not your office.’

 

Liam looked around at Zayn for a second and then his eyes promptly widened. ‘Oh right.’

 

He pushed himself off the desk top and pressed firm hand down the sides of his paints trying in vain to get the creases out. It was as if he was just now remembering where he was, what was happening around him, and who he was with. He suddenly seemed nervous, excited, and aggravated all at once, Hands still pressing insistently at his pant legs. Too late they looked to have been set in for at least past a day. Just how long has he worn these…clothes? Liam finally focuses back on Zayn and Erik who was now frowning slightly at Liam’s behaviour as well. Why did Zayn suddenly feel the need to run?

 

‘Right’ he repeated. ‘I –uh… I got demoted.’

 

And for the first time EVER, Zayn and Erik were exactly on the same page.

 

Blanching involuntarily, they both spoke simultaneously ‘Come again?’

 

<><>><<><>

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i suck. I know im an asshole. Its been a while since i posted and i feel terrible. I could give you guys the whole sob story as to why its SOOOO late but that’ll take too long. Forgive me please. This is half a chapter because again if i had uploaded it all i probably wouldve gotten yellled at. Dont want to give too much away so soon anyway. Ive learned to contain myself : J anyway thanks for reading and commenting. The kudos and comments push me on thorugh motivation. Zarry’s comming soon....i promise.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I feel like this chapter 10x longer than the others, but that’s probably not true. Maybe it’s just the heaviness of it. Enjoy!!!!

<><>><<><>

 

 

It didn’t take long for Erik to freak this time. He was on his feet at once, pacing a trail through dust particles that have settled on the scuffed floor of the office. His fingers had started pulling at the hair he definitely needed to cut more sooner than later, ‘you _what?’_

Liam, ever the calm one, looked the stunned expressions like they were children throwing meaningless tantrums. ‘So, I lost a little power. I wasn’t fired.’ He said looking pointedly at his best friend who seemed to still be frozen in time. Zayn sat there, eyes bugging and, and mouth moving wordlessly.

 

‘You say that as if nothing’s happened at all,’ Erik protested as he rounded back on his pacing route.

 

Liam’s lips pulled into a weary smile, ‘ _You_ say that as if it would be the end of the world. Honestly with you two under my responsibility, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.’

 

His tone was light, filled with kindness. The smile he wore was actually curving the lines around of his warm eyes. It was a joke, an action Liam would have never performed in front of other people years ago, but it stung like a bitch.

 

‘Why did you get demoted?’ Zayn asked lowly. It caused Liam’s smile to drop and Erik to stop and turn a frown onto Liam as well. Was this their fault?

 

Liam frowned and gave silence a try for a couple more seconds before sighing ‘Before I say anything, I’ll just let you off, no this isn’t your fault.’

 

‘Fucking mind reader,’ Erik muttered sourly, but he sighed as some of the tension left his body.

 

Liam chuckled wholeheartedly at the Twilight quip before moving to take hold of Erik’s arm to place him back onto his spot beside Zayn on the desktop. ‘I don’t have to be one to know you’re thinking it. This has nothing to with either of you. I promise.’

 

The sincerity, the way his voice just seeped with pure honesty was what did it for Zayn. Some of the tension lifted from his shoulders as well, ‘So what’s it got to do with?’

 

Liam shrugged, removing his hands from his pockets and turning back his spot on the desk to sit ‘I honestly don’t know. Zayn, you know how bold I am with determination, but I’ve never pushed over the line. Even with you and the others I’ve trained being steam blowing maniacs half the time….the Board never felt I was training threats to society.’ He said seriously drifting off thoughtfully before continuing.

 

‘That’s not the problem because I still get to train, but what bothers me is that it’s not just me.’ Liam told them. Erik was on his feet again probably tired over leaning over Zayn to better look at Liam’s face. ‘Look, I was demoted about two days ago, and ever since then it’s like chaos has descended over the offices. It’s like one by one; the board began demoting agents in top spots like chiefs and commanders and shipping agents in lower spots like trainers, field agents and office workers off to other firms. I don’t know what that means, but that’s particularly why I presume the people are still panicking in the outside offices.’

 

He pauses to as if to listen to it before sending Zayn a small smile.

 

‘And you’re right. This isn’t my office. My office is still my office; I just needed someplace safe and quiet to talk you lot since the Board has their own version of Internal Affairs tearing through it. Don’t ask, because I don’t know what they’re looking for.’ He sighed itching at his prickly check.

 

Zayn’s eyes were accessing Liam’s clothing and dismantledness again. No wonder he looked so off, ‘How long have you been here?’

 

‘Eh…’bout two days,’ he answered with pursed lips.

 

Erik’s frown deepened on his cherub like face ‘Why?’

 

And it was then that Liam’s face lit once more like it had earlier. Only now the excitement was double the intensity. He hopped up from the desk and rounded back to look at them with shiny eyes, ‘Remember the day we met Zayn?’

 

The glare was well deserved, ‘You mean the day I almost died? Of course Liam.’

 

‘Do you remember what we talked about? How I told you the rogue vampires were killing in groups yeah?’

 

A nod.

 

‘Well a couple days ago, before everything went to shit, I was doing audio surveillance on a feed from the team I sent to Venezuela. Right?’ he asked as if trying to force the memory of the tram onto them ‘so they were chatting during their hunt, and I was just about to yell at them about scaring their targets off, when one of them said something like what I told you.’ He said focusing singly on Zayn as if trying to make him read his mind so he didn’t have to tell.

 

‘One of the agents….Wyatt’s his name. He mentioned how as his time on the field increased, he noticed so did the numbers of rogue vampires being found in groups together.’

 

‘Its true,’ Zayn intoned quietly. When Liam had first let him out on the field, he told him that back then it was hard enough to find one vamp reckless enough to show themselves to humans, now they’re bolder, meaner, and a whole hell of a lot stronger together. Even so, if the vampires are weaklings they stay together. His mind then flashing to the stunned female vampires they had captured when they seized that newborn’s flat days ago. How they were just surrounding the newborn.

 

‘Well, before I got the chance to put a word in they were already on the move, and focused on the task of bringing their vamp into custody. They encountered a group of them, unsurprisingly, and they caught not just the vampire targeted but, a rookie agent caught a female rogue as well.’

 

The boys both nodded noticing the achievement, he and Liam both were that rookie once, but honesty Zayn craved for Liam to get to the point. Liam shrugged nonchalantly ‘It’s not bad for a rookie to catch a rogue at all, but she…is old. I’m talking centuries; She s mean, cranky, hotheaded, and a lot like you Zayn.’ Liam informed with a tasteful smirk, probably delighted at the way Zayn glared at him for comparing him to a vampire, a woman none the less.

 

‘Her name is Veronica. And when they caught her she was just spitting loads of delightful Spanglish at the team as they arrested her. Later on after I had it translated, it turns out she was swearing on the blood of her next victim that the King would make them pay for even daring to touch her. How they would wish they were never born, how they would suffer the consequences of breathing her air.'

 

The room went silent after he finished aside from the sounds around them. The birds chirping somewhere outside the windows, the printers continuing to hum, the co-workers outside the office door making various noises as they tried swiftly glide past one another without making some kind of collision. It was futile effort. The chaos was pretty much evident to Zayn now that he knew the cause.

 

Erik spoke first, ‘King?’

 

‘Yes, el rey: King.’ Liam confirmed , ‘and it got me thinking back all the case files, back to all the hunts I’ve done and what I noticed about their behaviour. Its different, it’s changed over time. Yeah, they still stick together; they’ve always done that, because it’s what makes them feel stable. But these— these rogues they’re completely different than what were used to. The way they hunt is strategic, the way this particular group we’re focused on moves; it’s with purpose aside from having a warm pulse to bite into. There’s motive behind these hits.’ He spoke using his hands for emphasis.

 

‘And then her translation was like the cherry on top the sundae.’ He continued with a winning smile. ‘Wood peckers, Red ants, and honey bees? Three completely different beings; what do they have in common?’

 

A small smile curved Zayn’s lips ‘well, they all have homes.’

 

Erik nodded, eyes closed momentarily as pieces began to slot into place ‘Ants and Bees have queens. So there has to be a hive.’

 

‘Exactly,’ Liam chided playfully, and it wouldn’t have surprised Zayn if an honest to God giggle bubbled from his mouth then. ‘I took her translation as confirmation and that’s all I needed. Anyone can see it now. These rogues are pawns; puppets. They are apart of a larger group of vampires belonging to this one king. And there are probably thousands of them by now. But whatever they’re doing it’s….for a better word been ordered. These rogues are part of a society of some sort and they work together to carry out the deed of this….King.’

 

‘Now I was hoping I was going to be able to persuade Veronica into opening up to us and telling us more, even if it was yelled in angry Spanish, but then I got called in to the Board room and then was informed that I was demoted.’

 

He paused for a second, ‘at that moment I couldn’t have cared less, because as soon as I was out the door, Wyatt texted and informed me that they had finally pulled up with Veronica. But the window of opportunity had shut, because her anger had dissipated to mere annoyance, and they told me that she hadn’t spoken a word since she boarded the plane here. She hasn’t spoken a word yet.’

 

There was a moment he took to breathe and collect himself, ‘so instead of focusing on this new alleged hive, I decided to turn my attention to the bigger problem here: the king. I scoured through every case file I could lay my hands on in the first two seconds; Looked through everything that might’ve had some relation with this king or just the word in general. Just read on until my eyes were killing me; spent all those Redbull powered overtime hours to figure out just a bit of what he might look like. Y’know since we know it’s a _‘him’_.’

 

Zayn got it, Liam was fucking beat, but his impatience had finally gotten the better of him and his sympathy, ‘…..And?!’

 

Liam chuckled knowingly ‘ _And_ ,’ he mocked, ‘I think I might know who he is.’

 

 

<><>><<><>

 

‘I said, think,’ he repeated in case they planned to bombard him with questions- which they totally were- ‘I studied the reports thoroughly to see if any of the agents reported vampires acting differently around a specific vampire. There were a couple mentions, vague sentences, but you know agents have to be clear about everything they see when they observe vampires. It’s always a boy. Brown hair, shaded eyes, pale, tall, muscular, lanky, quiet. He appears small but the way the others respond to him is submissive. They cower, duck their heads.’

 

Liam pushed himself around the mahogany desk and towards the chair of it where a computer bag rested in the center. The boys followed his movement intrigue gripping them. ‘I assumed it had to be him, so I looked up the locations of the of particular cases, sifted through surveillance footage, traffic light stills, to see if I can catch a glimpse and caught a fucking break.’

 

Liam dropped to bended knee and had been typing through the web of his Macbook at lightening speed. Zayn wouldn’t have been surprised if most of those words were misspelled like they always were. His boss (?) typed until he got to where he wanted after entering the right information. He stood straight again before moving swiftly back to his spot in between them, computer nestled safely between his strong hands. He sat it down as so it could sit facing the other boys now. The thin screen displayed a gritty image of a colourless grid map.

 

‘Your breakthrough?’ Erik pushed once more, while staring intently at the screen like the other two.

 

‘Yeah,’ Liam muttered looking swept up in deep thought. ‘In one of the case files it was raining that day. A first since this particular area had been going through drought. There were harsh winds, and cool temperatures. A well needed storm. This case’s agents reported a boy amongst the vampires. Unshaded this time, but heavily hooded with large jackets. He seemed young compared to the agents observing him; probably a newborn.

 

'Since newborns are notorious for going on killing spree’s, some of the agents thought it’d be wiser just blowing their cover to kill him, if he was, but-of course- they didn’t act out of orders. 'Whoever was in charge probably gave them a colourful tongue lashing for even thinking about blowing their cover, but that doesn’t really matter now. It’s the fact that they noticed him in general that gave me the break.’ He swallowed, focusing on the screen again.

 

‘I saw that chance and I took it. So I went through the Data Base and typed in the time, date, and place of the location and voila!’ he said waving at the screen where there were options now. Liam could zoom in and see the streets through the stills from surveillance photography cameras, and he could watch videos of the recording taken that day as well.

 

‘There was an actual fucking video. I’ve watched it over a hundred times, until I could see the perpetrators, the team, and the very raindrops on the hood of their cover van where they analyzed. I watched it until I saw exactly what they saw word from word.’ He says tiredly as he fiddled with the computer. There was a small box in the corner of the screen where movements were happening, and Zayn assumed it was the very video in discussion. Liam moved the seeker to specific spot and then turned back to them.

 

‘There was a moment in the video where the wind got strong enough to blow the hoods straight from his head and….’ He pushed a button and all of a sudden the screen zoomed. The small box suddenly maximized into the frame for a picture, and damn if this one didn’t look priceless. ‘That’s him.’

 

………….....................

 

………………..

 

……

 

‘That’s him.’ Liam recited once more in almost utter disbelief.’ I found him.’

 

On the monochrome picture the screen presented was the face of a curly haired boy frozen in time. The tilt of his head was angled toward the right side of the screen. His expression appeared to be amused though the frown of his brow line contradicted it. The curve of his chin was soft, while the line of his jaw sharp.

 

There was a tiny curve at the upper corner of his lip that mismatched the dent line in the middle of his forehead. Eyes uncovered, as Liam said, they were noticeably lighter than brown even in the black and grey setting. He appeared innocent, charming, and harmless, even more so with the tiny odd moles that speckled the rise of his cheekbones. He looked like the type of guy Zayn wouldn’t be able to deny friendship back in elementary. It was the eyes though; the eyes were the thing that got Zayn.

 

No matter how much he let his eyes wonder over the face of this alleged king, no matter the amount of times Zayn let his brain perform tug of war on his opinion of whether that’s this is the actual monster that’s been causing hell for the V.E.C. for ages now, he couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing back onto the still lifeless ones projected on the screen of Liam’s laptop.

 

Darker than blue….lighter than brown.

 

It took Zayn a moment to pick up the fact that Liam was actually mumbling something to him instead of there being a fly buzzing in his imagination. Words started to form coherently, ‘….Zayn…..are you listening to me?’

 

He turned an ear towards the voice, but kept his eyes on the screen ‘yeah, I am.’

 

Lies! Liam knew Zayn as well as he knew his way around an automatic rifle, no doubt he knew that the other boy was lying through his teeth. Maybe his excitement was so intense that he didn’t even feel the need to call him on it, maybe he was storing it up for later like he always does. That should be fun. ‘Is it daylight there?’

 

‘Yes…’ the answer came.

 

‘How-’ he started before Erik cut in as if he were the mind reader.

 

‘There’s sort of a thinly veiled difference between sunlight and sunshine. Its raining remember? The sun isn’t necessarily shining on him so there’s your loophole.’

 

When you thought about it that way……’right.’

 

‘Liam,’ Erik called. ‘Play it back, will you? I want to see whose hand that is.’

 

And Zayn was so focused on scrutinizing the face that he hadn’t noticed it. The pale hand blurred in action over the side of the boys shoulder.

 

‘Oh, right.’ Liam said pushing through Zayn and Erik since they had both automatically leaned into the computer screen to see the picture from before. ‘So I know for a fact that the team didn’t attack them, as I said before: they know better, but something happens…’ he trails pressing play after adjusting the seeker here and there.

 

On the screen the video plays at a normal speed with the screen noticeably zoomed out now. You could see the streetlights hooking over; you could see powers lines now. He’s standing alone in the middle of the traffic- less street, back is to the camera. The wind blows his hood off, and he stands stalk still before he turns and glances at something off to his right. There’s the picture still, then there was the hand belonging to just one of about five or six male vamps that appear out of thin air. He was suddenly being covered again with his hoods, and rushed off in a direction the camera couldn’t follow. The clip ended then.

 

Erik’s brows pinched together adorably ‘Well, what happened there?’

 

‘Well, I couldn’t tell you that, now could I? I wasn’t there.’ Liam stated lightly, ‘But obviously something spooked them into sprint. I know from the report that they were a reported group of vampires, but ironically enough they appeared tame. None of the vampires with the boy were actual targets of the V.E.C.’

 

Zayn own frown pinched at the center of his forehead now as he stared at the now black video slide, he honestly just had a hard time believing that this boy- this little skinny boy who lacked sideburns and facial hair, was a mass murderer. He looked more like a confused puppy in an adoption shelter. ‘Are you sure that he’s a vampire?’

 

They both looked to him, so he went on ‘I mean, even in the mono coloured setting of the camera you can see his skin is noticeably darker than the rest of the others; Y’know like he’s got a tan. What if he could be like a blood slave instead; a feeder? They follow the vampires around right? They follow them to feed them whenever the vampires want blood, but don’t want to hunt. So what if they cower and shit because he’s the blood slave of the actual king or the king’s…. human lover? They would do that for any kind of relation to royalty, yeah? Protect them and cower.’

 

Liam hummed in appreciation and nodded making a face that read ‘not bad’, ‘Those are actually very thoughtful deductions Zayn, and I’m proud of you for not jumping to conclusions unlike so many other trained agents,’ he says moving the seeker once more. ‘But I’ve already made them myself as well, and I’m pretty sure he’s a vampire.’

 

He plays the video and pauses it again as he uses his finger to point things out. ‘You see there? Just after the wind blows his hood off, you can actually tell he’s taking a good whiff at the air with the way his head tips skyward lithely and all. And when he turns you can tell he smells something he likes….’

 

(Could have been chicken, Zayn thought)But Zayn could hear a joke forming from somewhere with the irony, turns out the others weren’t far behind. ‘Like what? The blood of a virgin?’ Erik asked chuckling at the stereotype.

 

Liam smiled ‘well, whatever he smelled caused him a concoction of emotions because I can’t quite make out his facial expression…’

 

Same here, Zayn wanted to say, but he didn’t. Its not like he got his head bitten off for his opinion, he received praise, but he didn’t even want to bother talking anymore. First of all, the column of the boy’s neck was visible underneath the shadows of the hood and there weren’t any scars or marks…. It almost seemed like Zayn was daring Liam’s point of view when the lad had been hunting and studying vampires before he and Erik even knew they existed in real life. Who would ever doubt his judgment? Zayn, that’s who.

‘And it’s not just the fact that all vampires look different, act with different personality, that I’ve watched this video countless times, or even the fact that he disappears out of frame with the same amount of agility as the others….’ Liam trails again staring the screen where the video was paused. The vampire’s head was ducked as two sets of pale hands finished hurriedly recovering his head, the appendages just blurry and noticeable around the boy’s shoulder. ‘It’s just…we know for a fact that he’s a vampire.’

 

Zayn’s head whipped towards Liam then. ‘How?’

 

And then it was Liam’s turn to frown deeply eyes flickering from Zayn to Erik who had now moved closer to them, brow furrowed in confusion ‘You don’t recognize him?’

 

Zayn slowly shook his head as Erik spoke aloud ‘Should I?’

 

Zayn watched as his best friend’s eyes actually bugged, ‘You’ve got to be kidding, with how long you’ve both been in the force you’ve never heard of him? I thought the hype would never die down.’

 

Erik pinched at his brow, ‘Liam. You are actually killing me right now.’

 

There was a moment for Liam to visibly shake himself out of his surprised state ‘Wow,’ he muttered. ‘Alright so about 12 years ago, I was a new field agent on the field after years and years of just being able to study the body language of vampires. They certified me as being able to know what made vampires tick, because every one of them have that imaginary button you can push.’ He says looking at nothing in general.

 

‘once I knew more than enough and trained countless hours in order to arrest and protect, they sent me out to find this massive bloke with honest to god tangerine orange hair. This particular vampire was on a killing spree, targeting pretty blondes both male and female.’

‘When I got to this location of this warehouse, inside there were massive amounts of vamps just huddled together for some kind of meeting it appeared. It’s where my target was, and as soon as we surrounded the building my backup noticed the way we were outnumbered and they panicked.’

 

‘Back then, we’d never experienced anything like that before, so I don’t even blame them. They had fired multiple warning shots in the air and spooked the majority of the group off in different directions. It was almost like a stampede and unfortunately they came charging at us. We had no choice but to run,’ he sighed tersely.

 

‘I knew it was under best interest for me not to panic myself so…. since the agent I brought with me as bait stuck beside me the entire time, I stayed hidden with her and waited until we were a safe distance before seeking out the orange hair.’ He shrugged, still looking into empty space. ‘I should have been absolutely terrified but I held my ground. Once I noticed he was still near the facility, I sent her out there and prayed she could hold her own if some other vamps decided to round back from curiosity. Of course, being so attracted to human blondes with limited defenses, he took the bait. I didn’t get to him first though. Turns out some of the panicked agents came back and noticed the pull in place; they attacked him and brought him down straight away.’

 

He finally looked at them and grimaced, ‘it was then I noticed that there was only half my team there to take him down. With the sheer amount of vampires that were packed in and around that warehouse… I assumed the others were just bloodless bags of bones by then, so I went off for a cigarette to clear my head. Gain my bearings since more and more agents from V.E.C. began to turn up to check out the nest we’d obviously just discovered. I didn’t want to talk about what I’d seen. So I found a quiet space and sat for a minute.’

 

‘Not long after I’d lit the fag, I heard grunting, yelps of pain, and whatnot. I should have feared for the worst, but the numbness I felt from before was still present, I got up and immediately followed the sounds. When I turned the corner around the warehouse, there was an alley lit poorly by streetlights. Being that it was night, I couldn’t see more than these streetlights allowed me too, but what I could see this man.'

 

'Tall, skinny, muscular… this one single man was taking on more than half of the agents I had assumed were dead, all by himself. If he were a vampire, I couldn’t tell at the time. There was no blood running from his mouth, and he was moving far too much in that moment anyway. I don’t know to this day what caused that fight. Still once the dust settled, the only blood I could see was that on his knuckles and speckled a bit across his face, and even then it was most likely from the rivers of blood that ran from my team’s mouths and noses.

 

'To me it seemed like maybe he was a feeder for the vampires, but I really doubted that a weak human feeder could take on a group of the worlds finest highly trained operatives with just his fist strength. I then noticed there were unconscious vamps laid near them on ground. He was defending himself, I thought. He had to be because from what I was there to witness, he only threw fists when they attacked him. It continued until all the agents were unconscious.’

 

There was a beat….

 

‘I hadn’t noticed my feet had moved… it took him turning to face me to notice I was standing almost right behind him; so close I could actually see the stitching in the knitting of his wool hat. I don’t what had gotten into me, my curiosity? Whatever it was caused me to be just a couple feet away from him I’d say. And this boy, stood there…just… staring silently at me. He was deathly still; the only thing moving with significance was his chest and eyes. And He looked human. He was tan, flushed in fact. He looked no older than I was at the time though he was panting as if he’d just run a marathon, but he just stood there.'

 

'I would have guessed he was placing my status as a threat or timing my heart rate until he growled this inhuman sound and suddenly bared his teeth. His fangs began elongating at an almost impossible length. And all I could do was stare at the saliva stringing from the canines, look into the anger flashing in his eyes, the claws lengthening from the tips of his fingers. I consider myself lucky that my team pounced on him then. I hadn’t even known they followed me. I’ve considered myself lucky before, but I felt lucky to be alive for a while after that.’

 

Liam bent over the computer once more and began closing and opening windows, ’What happened after that?’ Erik inquired softly as if not to break the air Liam’s soft voice produce as he told his story.

 

‘My superiors escorted me away before I could see much, the EMT’s told me I might have been in shock, but I do remember them tackling him. It wasn’t until the day afterwards that I learned that they captured him and had taken back to V.E.C. Headquarters. They had him in the building. He was actually in a holding cell, keyword **_was_**.’ Liam pulled up picture after picture of this ‘boy king’ ignoring their frowns and settled on a window with a video slide.

 

‘This video was taken in the holding cells we kept in the underground basement. These are what they looked like then.’ Liam said pulling up another window so they could evaluate it.

 

There were two sides of the screen, one for the outside and one for the cell inside. The cells were obviously rooms kept inside of rooms. The picture on the left displayed a padded room. There was a camera in the upper corner, obviously used for watching the vampire captives. The picture on the right displayed the outside where lab agents who studied vampires obviously worked. You could actually see small window and the knob of the door for the holding cell which was almost camouflaged into the interior of the white walls.

 

It was actually someone’s office space once, if the scattered files and working utensils were any indication. Zayn could see glass beakers, computers, chairs, papers, measuring tools, needles, and even the kind of wooden spatulas he remembers doctors using when they told him to say ‘Ahhh’ as a kid. God, he hated that.

 

He heard Erik laugh lightly because damn they had come a long way, ‘A padded room?’

 

It caused Liam to smile in return, ‘they had to make sure the captives didn’t harm themselves anymore then we would. This particular holding cell/study belonged to the agents who were assigned to study the vampire boy they had caught before. An alarm was tripped and a distress signal was issued for this particular room. This is what it looked like when armed V.E.C. agents went to investigate.’ he said opening a window in the tabs.

 

The room for a better word was trashed. Tables once neatly set up with erasers, pencils, staples, and staplers were now flipped over on their sides. Shelves once stacked neatly with empty glass beakers now broken and unhinged. The floors were splattered with fluids of which colours ranged from yellow, cream coloured, to green and god knows what they were. Papers were stained red, half the light bulbs in the ceiling were hanging out of their compartments, chairs were misplaced, beakers were broken, and then there was the cell door. Even in the still, you could see that the heavy metal door had been ripped from the hinges to get open. From the outside.

 

Zayn finally found his voice then, tearing his eyes from the destruction displayed on screen ‘What happened?’

 

Liam shrugged, ‘an escape mission.’

 

‘Please,’ Erik started. ‘Please, tell me that that video is what I think it is…’

 

Liam looked between the two boys and then returned the tab to the window with the blank video slide. ‘This video has sound. The camera was put inside the cells from observation, but also so they could hear if the captive were in distress. It was the old fashioned way.’ He pressed play on the waiting transparent triangle and then gestured towards the screen then, ‘take a look.’

 

After loading for a second, the screen displayed the inside of the padded cell from the right corner of the room. It was located on the same wall as the door, so if there were a bed inside the room it would be able to see from the foot of the bed to the head of it. It was quiet for a moment aside from the static-like feedback due to all the cement, and then the door groaned as it opened and swung outward to the right. The camera adjusted at the sudden movement and then hands covered in thick leather gloves pushed a blindfolded and handcuffed boy over the threshold. The door swung closed loudly immediately followed by the sound of numerous locks being activated.

 

Agents bring the captives to the cells for the scientist like escorts. They blindfold them so that if the vampire managed to break free, they wouldn’t know how to navigate their way through the thick cement walls. They handcuff them for repercussions, just incase they try anything. Vampires considered to be at risk for lashing out get double locks with chains behind their backs. Others like the boy in video considered to be calm get regular handcuffs to the front. Its absolutely true that vampires are unpredictable, especially the old wiser ones, but it’s a risk agents take for morality. The agents leave the restraints on because no matter the kind, they’ll be able to break them off; agents just make sure the vampires do it once they are inside the cell.

 

This is protocol.

 

But Zayn’s stomach twisted as he stared at the swirl of curls under the blindfold. The boy stood motionless for a second, back to the camera and door. Underneath the oversized long-sleeved shirt he wore, just beneath his right shoulder blade was a burn? It seeped a steady stream of blood until right before the camera’s lenses the skin began to close up sufficiently cutting off the stream of blood, and instead of the marred black it was a second before the skin was now the same colour of the rest of his body. He moved then, bringing his wrists up to the height of his chest, the side of his lips that were visible twitched minutely. It almost appeared that he was staring incredulously at the handcuffs. As if he could see right through the blindfold.

 

He stood still again for another second, long enough for Zayn to spot the bloody knuckles Liam mentioned, before he yanked his wrist part in a simple motion. The metal cuff broke on one of his wrists, and then he smoothly moved a nimble pale index finger to hook into the cuff link that remained around his left wrist. It popped after just a tug; the sounds of loose screws hitting the fluff of the cushioned floors mixed in with the clanking of metal echoed.

 

He actually caught the broken cuffs before they fell to the floor and gathered them into one fist; subsequently bringing the free hand up to the blindfold and lifting it off his head in one motion. All these movements were done with precise calmness. Smooth with grace.

 

And it would usually bother Zayn that such hideous monsters, beasts at heart, can possess so much fluidity and grace. It was all so simple for them. But Zayn wasn’t bothered right now, it was probably because he was too busy staring at the side of the face now exposed. The boy moved to gather all of the restraints into both his hands before tossing them to the side in a neat pile. He turned to face the door finally, and there was no denying it. It was him.

 

Zayn had been so much in his young life already. Disappointment was something he experienced on a daily basis. Though he couldn’t explain why his stomach dropped so low when the innocent face of the boy came into perfect view. His --sort of-- platonic expression morphed into a tired scowl as he stared at the large door. Zayn could see the dried blood speckled across his face then as he twisted his head this way and that as he took in his prison.

 

The boy shook his hair out (which was longer than it was in the other video) running is hands through it like some kind of habit. He swooped the flop of curls on his forehead to the side before sighing, dropping his head, and folding his arms across his chest. After that it was silence.

 

The boy didn’t move, he didn’t look like he was breathing; he didn’t even look like he was an actual thriving being. Just completely immobile, like that of a statue.

 

Zayn’s breathing was fine, but he felt shortness of breath. He looked at his companions. From Erik, who was digging his top and lower teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip as he watched with anticipation to Liam, who was looking directly at him. He held up a finger as if to say ‘wait for it.’

 

_Crash!_

 

 

Zayn’s head whipped back to the screen just in time to see the camera shake with the force of a large distant _boom!._ It causes the boy to finally move. He slowly raised his head to look up at the flickering lights inside of the holding cell. Eyes a murky color zayn couldn’t pin point at the moment since he was in motion suddenly. He dropped his head stood straighter as a series of muffled screams sounded in the distance. His brows furrowed in confusion for a moment, and then he was suddenly as content as before. A quiet, hurried whisper fell from his lips just a second before another _boom!_ caused the lights to go out.

 

Through the darkness, you wouldn’t have been able to tell if he was still there or not with how quiet he stayed. You could see lights flickering through the small window of the door, but nothing more. If the boy knew it was a rescue mission he didn’t bother to call for anyone.

 

Zayn cringed as he heard the sound of glass breaking, papers ripping, howls of pain, large clashes as if heavy objects were being chucked through mid air…metal groaning. It sounded like a tornado had hit outside the padded room of the cell as the camera continued to shake as it rattled in its compartment, screen glitching with every other shake.

 

A louder _boom!_ sounded then, predictably closer than the others, and there was a flash of light for a second before shadowy debris began to crumble down in front of the camera and then the feed finally gave out. Colorful bars filled the box of the video slide.

 

There was silence outside the sound of continuous beep coming from the speakers of the computer dock. ‘The video feed went out because of the force of whatever was colliding with the cement of the walls. There weren’t any signs of radioactivity or explosives so….the vampires had to have been using the leverage of their own bodies to break through. The walls collapsed in the process of the vampires setting him free.’ Liam spoke with hesitancy.

 

Erik released his lip and a large breath, ‘he whispered something…. just before all of that. What did he whisper?’

 

Liam shrugged eyes settling on Erik, ‘I don’t know, that’s being analyzed as we speak.’ He informed before letting his eyes move between the two of them.

 

‘When I walked into the building that morning I could see a difference amongst the faces of the people moving through the first floor of the tower. It was like I could visibly spot the difference between people who actually worked in the Canary Wharf Tower business and the V.E.C. agents.’ He tells them with a frown.

 

‘its not like we know every agent in the force, it just became clear that the mass faces of tiredness and fatigue displaying what everyday workers feel, were completely different than the V.E.C. agent’s. Amongst the contentment I saw people who appeared slightly panicked, eyes bugged, jaws clenched, and movements jumpy; just not enough to elicit panic in those around them….protocol.’ He said simply, ‘but I could tell something had happened.’

 

He moved towards the computer once more and moved to a tab that displayed the face of the boy again. ‘This boy,’ Liam says pointing at the screen ‘is the first and only vampire, to be captured, make it to a locked secured holding cell and actually escape in the matter of seconds.’

 

Zayn followed the accusing finger as if he hadn’t just seen the video for himself. He sighed as Liam went on ‘when they told me, the company was on the verge of meltdown deadest on locking down the entire building after a thorough evacuation. Just panic and leave the captives in the basement until the incident calmed a bit, but that could have taken weeks. It took months in fact.’

 

‘D’you ever wonder why the company demands for so many upgrades in small amounts amount of time?’ Liam asked eyes darting the two other men at the rhetoric question. And Zayn thought back to the time the security installed bolted doors with nerve gas in the basements one month and then the next they were installing thicker metal bolted doors with bona fide high powered laser beams. He had just put it off as paranoia. ‘Why we continue to change up security once we’re settled on a plan. Why we continue to install things that usually wouldn’t be necessary. Why we remodel the holding cells ever couple months. Well that’s your answer: him.’

 

‘The company had been going strong for ages before that. None of the vampires before that ever escaped, an agent never fumbled long enough to allow that. Believe it or not, a vampire had never even attacked a scientist, let alone killed one until that day. He came along and threw everything off kilter. He is the reason we do everything in the agency, and it’s so ironic right now because he’s this king. He controls everything. Every problem we have with these rogue killings is dealt from his hand.’

 

‘Now, say what you will about him not being a king, that’s your opinion, but he is a vampire. And with the amount of destruction these pawns of his went through to retrieve him, you cannot deny that he is a very important one.’  

 

That’s true too. Zayn knows this because he’s experienced vampires turning on each other in the amount of time it’ll take to pull air into your lungs. These vampires could have been ones that have known each other for centuries, and it’s that easy for them. So he nodded in case Liam thought he still doubted him. Vampires wouldn’t go through that just to save a buddy….

 

‘You got anything on him besides what his face looks like?’ He asked turning to face Liam now.

 

‘I don’t have a name for him besides king, if that’s what you’re asking,’ Liam chuckles a little, then ‘but yes I have more information.’ He moved around towards his computer bag again, unzipping a compartment, and pulling out a thin stack of files. ‘So,’ he said coming back to them. ‘Its not that I’ve forgotten about him or his escape, its just agents besides me decided to keep an eye out for him, even after the occasion had died down. They tracked him whenever they could, looking for specifics like I did when I had searched for him.’ he dropped the files on the desk.

 

‘Oh, no.’ Erik whined, ‘don’t make _me_ have to say it this time.’

 

He warned as Zayn glared lightly at the taller man in allegiance.

 

‘ _And,_ ’ Liam mocked once more ‘they were never able successfully track him.’

 

Erik frowned, ‘Meaning?’

 

‘Meaning, he’s a ghost.’ Liam finalized, but it did nothing but make Erik frown deeper.

 

‘When you say ghost, d’you mean like Casper or…’

 

And Zayn and Liam couldn’t help but laugh at his cluelessness ‘he means that he doesn’t stay in one place for too long. He’s here one second and gone the next.’

 

‘Zayn’s right,’ Liam cut in. ‘He never stays one place too long. But for him it’s almost like he is compelled to leave as soon as he stays over some time limit he sets. Like something pushes him away after a while. You can read the files yourself if you want. There isn’t much there but offhanded guesses made by the agents. Other than that: nada.’

 

‘I was almost compelled to give it a rest, until I picked up a trick from that Mtv show CATFISH.’ He said wryly ‘I ran a picture of his face through the Data Base and a trace came back. It was a picture of him taken just a couple of hours before then. I swear, I looked at the location and almost passed out. He’s here in England.’

 

And Zayn…..perked up. Liam noticed.

 

‘Yeah, he’s been here for the past couple days or so, and I know this because I keep running his face and getting pictures of him. He never stays still long enough for a proper video, but a new picture shows almost every time.’ He says bringing up the tabs he opened before revealing the photos; every one of pictures taken at a different angle. Liam had downsized the windows so that the pictures can overlap each other effectively.

 

‘I keep checking so long as he doesn’t suddenly disappear, because there’s always that chance.’ He said going through the process of checking the face as he spoke. A new picture maximized the screen monochrome once more like the others. This one was taken on a crowded street where stores lined the sidewalks. There the boy stood near as pink and black neon sign reading City Spice.

 

Then another one pooped up and he stood hooded again, obviously well on his way to walking past a distinctive blue, white, and pink skull graffitied on the side of a building. That was when it hit; the stores of curry, the bricks lining the ground of the streets and sidewalks. Zayn knew where he was without even looking at the location.

 

Erik spoke before him, ‘That looks like Brick Lane. Jesus, he’s right in London…’

 

‘Right,’ Liam interjects. ‘And for whatever amount of time he’s been here and decided to actually walk the streets, he’s been spending it in East London. Lets just hope he stays put long enough for us to actually investigate.’

 

Zayn says nothing. He only nods while numbly taking in the info with surprising ease given the fact that he wanted to punch something right then. He hadn’t a clue why though. Liam always notices almost everything so why he didn’t mention the way Zayn eyes stayed glued to the screen where the boy was pictured (blatantly ignoring the girl basically drooling at him as he walked pass her) is beyond him.

 

He just placed a hand gingerly onto Zayn and Erik’s shoulder before sighing, ‘Come on. Let’s go figure out where your status stands.’ He says leading them out into the flurry of madness that was the offices right now.

 

And hello foul mood.

 

****

 

Zayn was this close to throwing his cold omelet at the twin doors of the Board room. It shouldn’t have surprised him that there was a line considered how many jobs were moved here and there. Its just he thought steam would blow out his ears at the sight of the line when they arrived to the underground plantation through the connection of tunnels throughout Canary Wharf.

 

Everything irked him, like how the majority of those in the line were still wearing their wrinkled work clothes, maybe it was because they had obviously left the office before him to get there, or that they kept moving in and out line to check over the shoulder of the person in front of them. It all made him want restrain them and then skip their spots just so he could get the fuck out of there. But all it took was a light scowl from Liam to stop him from mumbling obscenities ….aloud that is.

 

****

 

Zayn’s still a field agent and Erik was still his ‘Handler’ surprise, surprise. The executives at V.E.C. actually think he’s worth something as it turns out. He tried not to take offense to how aggravated the old geezers of the Board seemed when they admitted his value was too much to risk just because he was disobedient hot head on his way to being a spiraling flight risk. In fact it didn’t offend him at all, if the smirk he cracked in the middle of their speech admitting just how much they needed someone like him in their force, was any indication. He might have chuckled darkly since he could hear Liam clearing his throat over his shoulder, and now he might actually get his ass kicked later.

 

 

****

 

Yeah he might have gotten off easy with the Board letting him keep his job in London, there always was that curve ball life whacked at him. He was now the head trainer for the rookies with zero level of experience. He was ordered to start their training as of today, and boy did that do wonders for his mood.

 

****

 

Zayn felt more agitated than normal. Sure he always felt like flipping strangers off when they smiled at him on the street, but he’s never actually done it. He’s never acted out in order to tick others off-wait….maybe he’s done that, but something was wrong. Even his comfort thoughts couldn’t stop him from lashing out on trainees who to Zayn were missing their practice targets on purpose.

He’d taught them to stun the same way Liam taught him, and they didn’t seem to get it. To Zayn it felt like the universe was mocking him, he felt tortured, coerced, pestered into everything he did after he’d left that office with Liam and Erik, and it was all he had in him not to whine, scream (Louder), or …break a jaw. Because to Zayn, in his eyes, in his very right mind, every shot they misfired was done on fucking purpose.

He’d apparently lunged at one of the snarky blokes that were in training, but the event hadn’t registered. Though he can remember several trainers pulling him to the side, handing him cold water, and coaxing him to calm down. And he couldn’t even remember the last time he got so miffed that he’d actually blacked out. Zayn’s chill, nothing causes him to act out other than vampires and …Erik. He knew for himself that his moodiness was getting out of line, but he couldn’t stop the sudden overflow of frustration and anger. He couldn’t get a grip on his emotions, and it didn’t surprise him that the fact that he couldn’t pissed him off more. He hadn’t a clue what his own fucking deal was.

 

…..He needed a cigarette. Or twelve.

 

****

                                                           

Zayn pushed out into the night air with relief. Honestly he never felt happier to see the puddles rippling about the streets, or to feel the cold as shit wind chill hitting the stubble on his cheekbones, cooling the hot tips of his ears. Before He’d felt wrung, and stretched out every direction with how the day turned out. Naturally he’d known there was punishment to come even if it wasn’t from Liam, but _that_ , what he’d just gone through _,_ was purely cruel and unusual punishment. In fact the only redemption dealt to him today was him coming outside at this moment, and maybe that’s fate telling him he needed to as far away from there if possible…. for a while.

He took in a calming breath before willing his legs to walk towards his vehicle. He took his time staring at everything and nothing in general. Eyes catching onto the green of the leaves left over, then to the fancy landscapes littered around the area that was the Isle of Dogs. He felt better….even smiling sweetly at a small strawberry blonde toddler clad in pink _everything_. She stared silently at him, the orange popsicle dripping down her tiny digits forgotten, until they passed one another.

 

He had much to think about, but he just couldn’t find it inside himself to ruin his walk with his fucked up attitude. So Zayn let his mind wander, let his memory pull up images of his past. He could smell the sweet cinnamon buns his mum used to bake for them after school on Fridays. The scent of them used to be strong enough to pinpoint from all the way down their street.

 

He pictured it now, only it was corrupted by gasoline of cars and strong garlic wafting from the Italian store he’d just strolled pass. He saw the abandoned swing set Zayn never finished in their backyard. He could actually remember the girls pestering him to do so, but him snapping back at them because he’d wanted to read his comics….he remembers forgetting his mum’s birthday, finding out from Doniya, and then promptly picking a large sum of yellow weed flowers from the woods. He remembers her sneezing her head off because of allergies and then the both of them having poison ivy for good week or so.

 

He remembers his pa trying to teach him to hammer a nail without hammering his own finger. His dad ever the klutz for his kids, nailing his own finger in the process of teaching his student. He even let his mind wander to the times he used to try to get in on his fathers poker games. He was far too young, but he still stuck by the door until they ordered him away. He got revenge by making at least one of them have to sit on their arse since he took that good chair into his…tree house.

 

The eyes, the same one’s that haunted his damn dreams since that night, danced across the field of his vision and he stalked to a stop. When he’d closed his eyes, he hadn’t a clue, but they snapped open then immediately taking in his surroundings. The streets continued to be teaming with headlights, the people who walked past him stood blankly at his sudden stop in the middle of the sidewalk, but he didn’t care. He needed to gain his bearings damn it. It took him actually shaking his head for him to unburrow himself from his thoughts. That’s why he barely thought about his family…it always lead to loneliness and paranoia. He sped up once he spotted his car at the next curb.

 

\---

 

The dark boy sighed as he maneuvered his GMC through the buzzing after hour traffic. Maybe he knew now just what the fuck’s been irking him. This vampire king shit. Zayn should hate him, he should want to torture him until he pleads for death, and he does. He thinks. Just not right now. Zayn didn’t fucking understand. They had gotten a break and found out about a twat king that could have possibly ordered a hit on his family, that almost murdered Liam and yet he had a soft spot for him? Like what the actual fuck? He should hate him. And when it boils down to it, if Zayn saw him on the streets, since the boy was in London, he wouldn’t hesitate to attack him….though that doesn’t change the fact that he would feel a little bad afterwards.

 

And since when is regret a thing for him?

 

He wanted to feel the same way he felt about any other vampire, but he couldn’t for some reason. He couldn’t bring himself to hate a small boy with such a guiltless face. Maybe because to Zayn he didn’t have the face of a killer. He reminded Zayn of someone… he was similar in a way Zayn couldn’t place. His body and mind reacts to the sight of him like it’s….

 

A shrill sound filled the cabin of his car causing him to jump so fiercely that he succeeds in honking his horn. Zayn exhales into the smell of the honey scented vent clip of his car and checks the road before plunging a hand in his jacket to fetch his phone. He fumbled with it long enough to cause him to literally growl before he actually slid a thumb across the green screen tab ‘What?’ he snapped.

 

‘Zayn?’ Liam’s voice queried. ‘You alright?’

 

And Zayn sighed. Fancy having his attitude right? ‘Yea… Yeah I’m fine. What’s up?’

 

‘Are you sure?’ the other man asks. ‘You’ve been acting strangely all day. Is Erik following you or something?’

‘I said I’m fine Liam,’ he sang in annoyance. ‘Wait. Why are you ringing me up? You usually don’t call unless it’s to tear me a new one.’

He heard the other man clear his throat ‘I-ah…I-I needed to talk to you. Just trying to find you right now….Where are you?’

‘GMC. On the freeway,’ Zayn said pursing his lips at his side mirror. A Prius kept attempting to cut into his lane in order to pass him up before swerving back into their own. Indecisive much? With an eye roll, he moved to fiddle with the dial for the music playing softly through the bass of his speakers.

‘Oh,’ he said, voice drooping a bit, ‘Well I’ll make it quick then. As it turns out your little escapade to the Americas wasn’t a complete bust. One of the girls Erik stunned (and you didn’t kill) wasn’t a new born…she’s a couple decades older. That was good enough for me so I sent a team in there with a copied and printed photo of him to interrogate her.’ And of course Zayn knew who this conversation was about. The boy’s has only been mind fucking him all day ‘They got answers out of her by rubbing dead blood onto her skin….’

‘What?’ he had never heard of that technique before. He let his eyes drift towards the rain mist spraying from the tires of the car in front of him. Sounds like a fixed kink fad.

‘I don’t know, but since she reacted that way to it, I’m pretty sure vampires hate blood that isn’t fresh from the vein. No matter where it goes. It sort of burns them….sears their skin. It’d been a while since she last drank and we didn’t have a feeder with us so I sent them in with a couple of bags of AB we conveniently had in storage… They were trying to feed her so she wouldn’t starve herself to death in exchange for submission. She turned her head and refused the blood…causing it spill so. If the UV lights are unproductive, this will work for sure. That’s a new, valuable, cheap weapon for us. Brilliant.’

Lame…

Zayn smirked pulling over into the middle lane to make the decision for the irresolute driver in his side mirror. Maybe they were drunk ‘Is that all Liam or did you just call because you miss bossing me around.’

But then an image of the boy sprouted into his vision. Skin marred purple and blue from the dead blood scolding it. Body jolting with the agony it must be causing him. Air shot upward into his nose sharply as his fingers tightened around the steering wheel. That honey clip was really beginning to stink now…

‘…rry…’ Liam’s voice muffled in his ear ‘Did you hear me? His name is Harry, Zayn. And after she swore up and down that’s all she knew about him, we cleaned her off. We had a name but no lead. And since I got tired of new photos popping up every now and again I said ‘fuck it.’ And then sent a team to tail his location.’

In the back of his mind he knew Liam wasn’t supposed to be doing stuff like that with the steady grip the Board had on all of the agents, but he said nothing….he felt rubbed the wrong way…. ‘Liam, if you make me have to say it, I will reach through this phone and tear your—’

There was a giddy chuckle then, ‘We caught him.’

On their own accord, both heel and toe of both feet crammed together to slam down on the brakes pedal. His body jolted forward with force of the impact, seatbelt taking the brute, but he wouldn’t have given a shit if it was off. Ignoring the insistent honks of horns, and the fact that he was in the middle of a highway, Zayn stared at the darkened screen of his phone as if it were a Bible revelation come to life.

Did he hear that right?

‘We actually caught him.’ Liam says, voice blaring loudly through the small speakers, ‘Again!’

Not entirely sold on whether the news was particularly good or bad for him, Zayn blinked twice before placing the device back to his ear, ‘What?!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh! Poor Zaynie’s PMS-ing and shit just got hella real. To my wonderful supporters SweetNightingale09, KevinsGirl2202, Isabella, and beautyindisguise. Thank you for commenting your excitement and reassurance. Beauty I love you boo x. To others just passing through to read, i appreciate it, but don’t be strangers with that comment box because i light up everytime i see them. Tell me what you think -S


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay this time it is longer. For better understanding the new holding cells for the vampires here's something like what i'm describing: check out www.lostateminor.com/.../the-mirrorcube-tree-house-hotel-in-sweden on google, because its awesome, and when I stop being broke I will buy one.  
> So hopefully that'll clear up confusion. Also just to warn, the E rating is literal people.

When Zayn was young, he wished for a pair of wings. It’s a silly thing to wish for considering his apprehension towards heights, but it never bothered him at the time. He’d still dress up in his Superman briefs when he thought no one was home, and jump from the top of Waliyah and Safaa’s bunk bed.

His mom caught him though, as if the dirty bottoms of the sheets he’d tied around his neck as a cape weren’t already a dead giveaway to what he’d been up to, (and who had been ruining the clean laundry) she found him when he landed on his ankle funny.

His mom never spoke a word to him whenever she’d catch him sitting up afterhours in bed staring outside the window at the shiniest star he could find, just he could wish his life better….than it was at the time. No. she’d smile the kind that makes deep lines appear around the lips, and close his bedroom door further.

Zayn was never the kind of guy to try to one up someone for the hell of it, but it was always pure gold to hear Doniya call his mom out on letting him stay up when she was always bickering at them when it came to bedtime.

There were no favourites for his parents, they all were aware of this, but his mom knew him better than he even tried to comprehend at the time. She let him know with the look a mom gives you when they’re saying _help is here, all you need is to ask._ She’s let him dream because his sights on the world were too big for him even then. She knew he was sensitive, feeling wise, even more so than the girls.

She knew, somehow, that dreaming was his escape….so she never interrupted him when he thought about how the wind would feel beneath his wings, how the air would feel hitting his face and ruffling his hair. She let him paint the sky whatever colour he could imagine, because he needed that escape. He wanted to fly….has always wanted to….its the landing that’s always had him iffy.

It terrified him not knowing how to…even if he couldn’t fly, but it was symbolic because he craved for that freedom, the wind above his back. He wanted to fly, not plunge into the cold unforgiving earth after he’s had his fill of wing flapping; he wanted ascendance not wreckage. So it’s not overwhelmingly surprising that after he’d sprang his ankle that time he didn’t try to fly again. Flying was something for animals, imagination, and comic books.

Though, it really should have been clear to Zayn that he’d been flying all along. He had soared once, the air rushing above and below his body supported by that of his—blood—family members. It’s clear now that he was always a flight risk, and it’s relevant seeing that he’s been in a downward spiral for the fucking longest. Only now he’s found his landing; he hit the ground running.

Literally, as soon as his GMC parked (most likely crookedly) inside one the indoor parking lots for Canary Wharf Tower, he was moving; Almost as soon as he hit the brakes. His feet were going, racing toward the doors leading inside the bulk of building. Zayn isn’t one to let things pass him by…he was trained to notice everything happening around him, keep his guard up…even in his sleep. But his training might as well have been taught by a three year old with the amount of rules he was breaking.

For instance, ignoring the fact that he had probably caused a huge accident on the freeway when he decided right then was time to stop. Speeding, swerving and gassing his engine just to find the nearest exit off of it.

Or ignoring protocol, by rushing pass various V.E.C. agents as soon as he got to the nearest elevator. It must appear that he’s panicked, what with his wind blown hair, heaving chest, and glossy eyes. It was all too noticeable to the people standing in the elevator with him, they gave him the kind of looks that would have brought out his pessimistic side trait of snide comments, but honestly…over the sound his heartbeat, breathing and the gentle symphony of the music filling the cabin, Zayn could hear an alarm ringing in the distance. And he didn’t notice anything else.

 

<><>><<><>

 

When the elevator finally reached the underground barracks, he raced through the underground tunnels to find the lockers of the training grounds, bits and pieces of his conversation with Liam coming back to him.

 

_‘What’s all that noise?’ Liam asks over the horns and shouts of fury, ‘What just happened?’_

 

_Zayn attempted to speak, mouth opening multiple times only to close several more. He took in a large breath through his nose and stamped on the gas pedal, ‘Nothing Liam…keep going. What happened?’_

 

_‘Well, we cornered him around Shipwrights Arms, right in the alleyway. He was with a group, but I think they knew he was the target….he was the only one we were after and he’s the only one we caught.’_

 

Even now Zayn could feel the foreignness of an unnamed emotion overcoming the occupancy of his throat. More and more images, birthed simply from the power of his thoughts filled his brain.

 

 

The boy injured, crying out in agony. Blood everywhere. Bile joined that emotion in his throat. He knew what agents go through to catch and subdue a rogue vampire, especially when they’re deemed as dangerous and important as this Harry bloke. Pain was probable for him.

 

Zayn pushed through the double doors to the training barracks….ignoring the trainees that looked at him strange and tried to talk to him or the one’s who mentioned they thought he was leaving for the day. He headed straight into the doors of the locker to find proper gear for handling vampires. He hadn’t even realized he was soaping wet until he stripped out of his formal clothes.

 

_‘Where are you?’ he asked, numbly turning on the windshield wipers._

 

_‘We’re about to cross the London Bridge. With the speed the drivers going, we’ll be back to Headquarters in about five minutes, but Zayn-’ then he heard it, an agonized yowl in the background…there was a sickening sound of sloshing and grunting going on and then suddenly something was happening with the capability of Zayn’s lungs to take in air._

 

_‘Jesus,’ Liam hissed. ‘Will someone get him a bag or something? Yeah, turn him over and put it under his mouth.’_

 

_There was crinkling and then a soft but far from hollow thud ‘The fuck’s going on Liam?’_

 

_‘He keeps…he keeps vomiting blood. Like fucking bucket loads. I haven’t a clue why, but it’s been happening on and off ever since we started on him. It took every man on our team to bring him down. He fought us tooth and nail.’_

 

_Zayn spared a moment to actually think, ‘are you alright?’_

 

 

_There was a pause. A surprised one, he could guess, since Zayn wasn’t the type to show emotions…or rather the soft ones often. ‘Yeah, it took a minute for him to start up, but once he did all hell broke loose. He was a hell of a fighter until he started excreting blood. Hopefully we don’t lose the captive before we can get him back to the scientist. This- I’ve never seen anything like this. This is cumbersome.’_

 

_Zayn’s hands squeezed at the stirring wheel once more, ‘I’m on my way.’_

 

 

_‘Wait Zayn-’_

 

_‘I’ll meet you there.’ And if had tried to speak again, he was speaking to dial tone. Zayn chucked his phone into the passenger seat and made a hard right as soon as the exit came into view._

 

Zayn plugged his stun gun into its holder on his belt, checked for his regular automatic gun in its halter, and did the same for his pocket knife.

 

He pulled in a breath meant to calm, running a hand through the wet quiff of his hair, and closed his locker door. Zayn turned and swiftly made his way out of the room to head towards the vampire holding cells a couple floors down. He chooses to purposefully ignore his emotions then and there. Why? Because, they were incomprehensible.

 

<><>><<><>

 

 

As it turns out the alarm sounding wasn’t one for inducing panic, it was telling the agents that they needed to take caution. The irritating high screech was the type that settled in the hollow of the ears and caused the neck to involuntarily twitch and flinch.

 

It grew louder as he entered the long white hall of study rooms. This area was always so clean and quiet whenever Zayn came here. Since Zayn was the type to catch a vamp and let the team escort it he down, he it’s a rarity. But today was so different on so many levels.

 

He almost missed it, focusing on walking pass the crisp white walled rooms of the doors that were open, ignoring the transfixed looks the scientists in long white coats (you’d think you’ll only see in movies or in elementary school books) wore, and placing his emotions into a professional setting. When he achieved a little, he looked at his feet contrasting the white of the concrete floor and the black of his hunting boots, and there was blood. He stopped momentarily.

 

There was a lofty trail of it leading all the way to the end of the hall. The lights flickered momentarily as he measured the quantity with dainty estimation. It appeared to come in bouts, some puddles bigger than others, and then there was a rather large one settled directly in the middle of the hallway. You could see where some of the agents had probably stepped in it and then tried to kick it off their shoe.

 

Whatever the case was the majority of the doors to study rooms were sealed closed, almost as if they knew what was happening. Who this vampire was. Zayn took a moment from staring at the blood trail to look up into the nearest slot of glass to a study door. He could see multiple sets of eyes looking back anxiously. He did the same for the nearest room to his left. It was the same. Yup, they did most likely.

 

The smaller puddles continued until it trailed around the right corner of the next large hall. Zayn watched from where he stood as a group of V.E.C. field agents came into view from the end of the hall before they headed out of view to the same direction the blood trail went. He sped up, not entirely sure what his game plan was.

 

<><>><<><>

 

 

After a couple more twist and turns, Zayn feet stopped where the blood trial, which was right in front of a closed study room. He hadn’t even noticed that the agents he’s seen earlier were there beside the door as well, until one spoke up.

 

‘Mr. Malik.’ He called confidently. ‘Sir, what are you doing here?’

 

Zayn saw the boy eyeing his getup and if the pink shading his cheeks were a tell all, he’s realized how stupid that question was, ‘I work here, why are you lot standing outside?’

 

‘Commander Payne ordered us to keep an eye out for the kid. We’ve been notified of his situation, and we’re aware of who he is. We wont let him out of our sight, sir.’

 

Zayn caught himself grumbling like a child about not liking being called sir, when the lights around them suddenly went out. Gasps of surprise filled the air, doors down the hall opened as scientists poked their heads out, while the halls coloured with an unnatural red light triggered by the fall back security generator, a new bell started to ring then.

 

And Zayn knew now wasn’t the best time to be reveling in how much the scene around him looks like a excerpt from Stephen King’s The Shining. Zayn peered into a room with an opened door and saw blackness. And over the chatter of scientist, the bell tolling above, he heard a scream sound in the room in front of him.

 

Harry’s room.

 

He peered into the dark glass , but of course saw nothing. The door hadn’t moved. In fact the small line of light located on the edge of the handle shone a dense red, indicating none of the scientist inside had attempted to get out via eye scanner.

 

Zayn swore silently, ‘you can’t keep an eye on him if you can’t see him,’ he muttered pulling out his flashlight, switching it on and turning to the others. ‘You, you, and you. Come with me. The rest of you guard the door. Make sure that whatever the fuck happens, he stays behind this door. Got it?’ Zayn ordered over the bell.

 

‘Yes, sir.’ They all chanted…and maybe he likes it a little.  

 

Zayn placed the flashlight between his teeth, pulled out his automatic before he moved his face towards the eye scanner and then waited until he heard a large _Clang!_ And then the light on the door lit up green. There was a second for preparation where Zayn looked over to check his team, he lifted three fingers with a starting nod as he ticked them down. _Three, two, one._

 

‘Let's move!’ someone shouted over the bell, and then the door was open.

 

                                                                                                                             

                                                                                                                          

* * *

   

_About 15 minutes ago_

_‘I could get used to this….’_ that right there is a line Harry Styles never thought he’d be able to comprehensively think again. It would be a lie if he’s said it any other time anyway, but right now the feeling was all to real. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he sat back and genuinely enjoyed the atmosphere around him…the last time he took the time out of a pocket somewhere just to sip on a glass of vodka on ice while listening to a small tinkling of piano keys bouncing from wall to wall.

He sat, facing the bar of the small pub Louis thought would be fun to visit for a minute. He’d protested of course, they weren’t here to mingle, but it was worth it. The way Louis smiled at him, the ones that pulled something in his heartstrings. He felt honored to be privileged with the looks of adoration Louis dolled him every minute or two. Louis was happy. He laughed the hearty kind Harry heard once every month or so. He even laughed at Harry’s old joke about giraffes and long faces…and it was exciting.

But getting used to things was something Harry had to do, like stepping into a room of humans and not cringing that the way their hear rates accelerate at the sight of him, or the sound of their hearts in general; a sloshing wet thump working in constant motion. The smell of their blood neither appealing nor discouraging. His throat was dry again….and this vodka wasn’t doing it.

He heard the caramel skinned man cackle off to his left again as he took another grudging gulp of vodka. Its amazing how such a small local pub can turn Louis’s happy light on in a matter of sight. Harry let his eyes skip over heads so they can take in the walls around them. The walls of Shipwrights Arms No.88 were almost literally covered in memorabilia useless to those who wouldn’t understand them.

 

Miniature framed ships covered most of it, along with the bottled ones you’d see in pirate films. The wood was probably centuries old, but somehow it still smelled like it had been freshly cut. The small hint of glass clinking about in the background, chatter ensued excitedly in the calmness around him, and Harry let his eyes settle on a bottled message above the bar. Yeah, he can get used to this.

 

A particularly great spike of aroma whisked around the area underneath his nostrils and Harry turned to spot source of culprit. There was a pretty dainty brunette playing idle with the keys of the grand piano in the far corner of the pub. It’s like she was demanding his attention from where she sat, breast pushed up high, hair pulled back into a tight ponytail; the colour so dark it was almost black, lips full and sensual, the light gold pigment of her cheeks rosy with a washed pink the cherry margarita on her breath gave her. She lifted her eyes towards him and he tore his eyes away. Christ, she looked and smelled like a fucking all-you-can-eat buffet. She reminded him of—

 

He felt Louis before he heard him, then a finger prodded the spot where a dimple would be if he were smiling. ‘What’s with the long face, Harlot?’

 

Harry ignored the insult and batted weakly at the offending hand before sighing dramatically, ‘Are you poking fun at my childhood happiness Louis?’

 

‘I would never!’ he swore placing a mock offensive hand over his heart. ‘You think so little of me.’ a beat, ‘you wont have fun, Haz, why’s that? Do I not make you happy? Are my smiles not enough?’ and there’s that signature fake whine.

 

Harry gaffes a snort ‘I blithe in your presence.’

 

‘Liar!’ he called and moved, like the bright ball of energy he is, into Harry’s line of sight by leaning over him. ‘Ah! You’re beginning to look like a Cullen, Harold. And you know what, that my boy, is pretty fucking depressing. You know why? Because I don’t like the Cullen’s.’

 

‘They don’t _really_ exist Louis.’

 

‘Stop wasting time and buck the hell up.’ then there was Louis’s regular voice. Harry turned to look at the wild hair atop the man’s head instead of his suggestive eyebrows. ‘I saw you staring at that bird, get to it.’ Louis encouraged before stealing a sip from Harry’s vodka.

 

Harry’s eyes moved to the ring of water the sweating glass left behind. There were several cup rings scattered about the top of the bar and….this place was in a severe need of coaster. He heard Louis spit the vodka back out with a grunt of disgust. ‘How do you drink that shit, man?’

 

Its rhetorical, he thinks, so he ignores that as well. Harry dragged a hand through the lengthening curls at the back of his neck. ‘We need haircuts….’

 

‘Quit it with the deflections, Styles.’ Louis growled sternly, voice still rough from the burn his throat had endured ‘Don’t act like you don’t need the company of that bird more. She wants you Haz, why torture yourself with thirst.'

 

_It’s not the same. I’d rather go delirious._

 

‘I might want to, but that doesn’t mean I need to.’ He says instead, taking his drink back and finishing it off. He scrubs the wet remains off his chin with a slide of the back of his hand. But Louis must be a fucking clairvoyant or some shit because there was a predictable lapse of silence between them.

 

Harry’s eyes were glued to his empty glass like the crescents imbedded along it were evidence of the 8th wonder of the world, but it was like he could feel the knowing cock of Louis head; like he could feel the pull of Louis’ face as he pulled his chin up and nodded.

 

‘He’s still here then? You can smell him cant you?’ voice soft, eyes softer, and shit was Harry ready for this conversation?

 

He opted for not answering, sniffing instead and subsequently rubbing the groove of his lips with practiced fingers.

 

‘When’s the last time you fucked someone Harry?’ and if Harry were drinking something just then, he would have been chocking way worse.

 

He coughed a laugh at Louis’s boldness. ‘Louis, why is it you always ask questions you already know the answer to?’

 

Louis played with his bottom lip a moment, biting at it gently before letting it slip from his teeth and then poking it back in with a long finger. ‘So since that night? What is it about him Harry, because I still can’t understand it.’

 

‘But you _do_ know the answer to that too, and you know I’m just as clueless as you.’

 

‘So, why don’t you just go find him?’ Louis shrugs turning to face Harry in his stool.

 

Harry’s life has been pure hell since that night. Frustration, irritability out of this fucking world, he never wanted someone and wanted to kill so much at the same time. He never even wanted a bloke before then so how was he supposed to react to this? The smell of blood wasn’t even the same anymore. The majority of the time it tasted like sweaty ass crack. Plus Harry had changed over the passed century, even more so when his mom died, but that night was like complete 180 in reverse. He got better and worse all the same. Some nights he couldn’t get the boy out of his head….he didn’t want to see him, he longed to be near and away from him at all times, but he didn’t want him dead.

 

Not really.

 

But If it were up to him about seeing him again, he would probably kill him this time, just to release the curse.

 

He couldn’t…

 

Harry cleared his throat and crossed his arms before placing them on the thick wood of the bar top ‘I cant, Louis.’ And it was simple, final.

 

Maybe it was the way his voice cracked a bit at the end. He didn’t intend for it, but it happened anyway. It could’ve also been the look on is face, because Harry could feel the frown lines setting in pretty deep, but whatever it was caused Louis to stop prodding at what obvious was a wound neither of their own comforts could heal. He let it be.

 

A warm hand curled around the muscle of his right bicep, and he heard a breathy curse follow the action. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you Haz. I’m sorry. Look we don’t have to be here. We don’t have to do this anymore. We can just go AWOL for a while before settling in Siberia inside that middle of nowhere shit hole you call a mansion—’

 

‘No.’

 

‘No?’

 

‘No. we’re not quitting Louis. We’ve come this far.’

 

‘I’m a bit cross with that answer. I don’t accept your reasoning.’

 

‘I don’t want to quit Lou. Killing is the only thing I’m good at…that’s why I went to war in the first place. If I stop I’ll have nothing to live for.’

 

A stony expression appeared on Louis’s face before his jaw clenched so hard Harry could see the bone working. He knows what Harry means, he knows that Harry loves him, but that probably didn’t stop the sting of his words from ringing true. His turning Harry ultimately had nothing more but prolong his life as a waste of space. ‘Then what would like me to do Harry?’

 

‘Nothing. Just enjoy your night and we’ll head off to Poplar when we’re done.’

 

‘But you’re unhappily doing something that makes you happy, which doesn’t make me happy by the way, you being unhappy as well as the doing the thing that makes you happy, and I’m just confused Hazza. Would you like me to find him for you?’ and he was dead serious. ‘ I can take care of it easily.’

 

**_No!_ **

 

‘No.’ he grunted.

 

‘But why not?’ Louis whined.

 

Just no. The eye roll he received from the buoyant lad told him he understood his thoughts exactly. Louis tugged on the collar of is jean jacket in annoyance, scratching softly at the patch of skin he was digging for. ‘You’re a stubborn little shit when you wanna be, Harry Edward Styles.’ He grumbled.

 

But Harry’s answering smile was all it took to make him lose the frown marks, and pouty lips. He shook his head disdainfully before getting up to talk to one of the other vampires they were here with. Harry called the bartender for a refill, smiling at him like he’d just found the reason the Earth exist.

 

It was all fun just to watch the boy openly gawk at him, continuing to do just that even as the clear liquid began overflowing and running down the sleeve on his forearm.

 

The boy startled then, going on about yelping and apologized to Harry who bit his lip to hide his smirk at the boy’s obvious devastation. The bartender sat the glass (filled generously to the rim) in from of Harry. He murmured something about it being on the house before rushing off, as if his bar station had caught fire.

 

Yeah, his life was hell half the time, but it had it perks. He chuckled and bent down to slurp at the vodka, so he could pick it up without it spilling over the crystalline rim.

 

Louis was beside him before he could comprehend, and the déjà vu seemed to be coming in like clockwork the past couple days. A hand tugged insistently on his left arm, grip firm. Vodka spilled down the length of Harry’s forearm causing him to recoiled instinctively at the coldness. ‘What’s your damage Count Crapula?’ he grumbled before giggling a little hysterically at his own lameness.

 

‘Up.’ Louis ordered, grip tightening. ‘Come on we have to go.’

 

Harry’s eyebrows pinched together as he turned his confusion to the other man. Louis was _just_ having fun, ‘Wha-no. I like it here, so we go when I say-Ow!!’ harry cried, head following the hand of which two of Louis’s fingers had clamped down on his defenseless earlobe. His body followed, sliding clumsily off the stool to lessen the pain. ‘Damn it, Louis let go of my ear, you’ll rip it off!’ he half warned and whined at once. ‘it’s going numb!’

 

The fingers released his ear, after a sassy, ‘Shows you right brat! Now move your skinny arse, before I kick it.’

 

Harry ignored him but did as he was told, ignored the pretty brunette at the wedge of the piano looking on at him desperately, and the others who also looked on wantonly as he and the others moved. They ignored everything and walked out into the night air of London.

 

<><>><<><>

 

 

Something was wrong with Louis. Harry knew him better than he knew himself, which by the way is too sad to ponder on. His movements were jumpy, his gaze never stayed one place for too long, and the behaviour for him was…very unsettling. The anxious frown on his face was something like seeing a puzzle jutting out of its slot when its been forced in the wrong spot. It was right. This was Harry’s role….

 

Harry looked around following Louis flickering line of vision, to try and tried to find a hint of whatever could have been bother him, but saw nothing but the visible curls of puffs their breaths produced. They turned into darkened alley intent on taking a nice stroll through the streets before gearing up for their next hit. The alley was littered with trash like any other part of London, strong with stray animal fecal matter and the overwhelming scent of piss. His eyes began watering. Yep they should have gone another route. This is not a peaceful stroll.

 

Harry let his eyes wander from the toppled over metal trash cans to the stars instead. Like lifting his head would help the strong urine that seemed to burning through his nostrils, down to his throat, and right back upwards to the folds of his brain. He listened to the sirens going off in the distance, the crickets singing somewhere north of them, and then to the water crashing gently about underneath the London Bridge. Peace.

 

He tucked his hands deep into the comfort of his pockets before he collided with something….Louis. He had stopped dead in his tracks right in the middle of the dark alley. He was rigid, he wasn’t breathing, and Harry was sure he actually heard the jack hammering of Louis heart stop.

 

‘Lou?’ he whispered.

 

There was no answer. Just a clicking that he assumed was the sound of the older man swallowing dryly. The others stood behind Louis, back to harry. The five formed a protective semicircle around the front of him. What is it that he couldn’t see?

 

He looked around and noticed the alley was darker now. Like unnaturally dark ‘What’s happening?’

 

‘Hey.’ Someone whispered and it almost sounded as if it were in the hollow of Harry’s eardrum. Though it’s clear that he wasn’t the only who heard. All of their heads whipped around in time to see a small canister bounce to a stop at the toe of his dress shoe…Harry gently prodded at it with his shoe and frowned, déjà vu coming upon him again.

 

There was second of searching and examining when something pricked him side his neck he slapped at it expecting a bug were there. Harry registered a small crunch of glass sounding, but then his legs went weak and then—a hand pulled back on his shoulder when he began to fall forward.

 

‘HARRY!’ Louis bellowed just before the tiny canister exploded right in Harry’s face.

 

<><>><<><>

 

 

Harry opened his eyes what felt like an eternity later to the sight of camouflaged silhouettes in masks pointing their guns at the other vampires. He through a haze Harry could smell the adrenaline rushing alongside the blood in their veins. Hear their heartbeats tremble in anticipation. Humans.

 

The ringing in his ears garbled the warnings the humans shouted at his stunned companions. His head spun and his stomach immediately protested.

 

Darkness engulfed his vision once more but when he opened his eyes again it was a different scene. It was almost like waking up to a film after dozing off. Where the vampires were stationary before they were moving now. Moving away from him and pulling Louis along. Harry let his eyes move onto one of the armed men’s sleeve looking for a telltale, and he found it. Vampiric Exploration and Confinement.

 

Of course they came for him again.

 

A foul stench harassed his nose as his head throbbed dangerously. He groaned as his stomach started to recoil violently.

 

The fuck was he hit with? Harry turned his heavy eyes towards Louis as he struggled to push himself onto his bum. Harry couldn’t focus; eyes displaying an image of the alleyway, sky, streetlights, and ground spinning sickeningly, but he sought out Louis. He felt a tug on the back of his shirt, heard the gravel hiss as the bottom of his thighs dragged atop it.

 

His maker screamed, actually shrieked in a way that made Harry want to sob and coo at once. Cry at Louis’ defiance, his manic to get to him, and coo because if he’d had any doubts on whether Louis truly loved or cared for him, they were diminished by the furious shouts he bellowed and the sight of the wetness in his eyes.

 

A weak smile came for Louis, but it was wiped of as hard bone connected to the cartilage in his nose, then his head was numbly hitting the ground, eyelids falling easily towards his cheeks. A noise between a groan and a growl left his throat as his body began to heat rapidly with the anger boiling deep inside him.

 

‘That’s enough Wyatt, get your head out your arse and do your damn job.’ A familiar voice hissed. Then the hand was pulling on his collar again.

 

‘HARRY!!’ Louis called. And he opened his eyes wide enough to seek out the caramel haired man screaming in distress. There were only there was only two vampires pulling on Louis now, but they were clearly stronger in his anguish. Harry waited, waited right until the blazing icy blue orbs calmed enough to look right back into his own droopy ones. His head moved through the heaviness, achieving when he shook it slowly from side to side.

_No…._

 

_Don’t fight._

 

This was his battle.

 

_Don’t fight._

                                                                          

 

                                                                                                                                 

* * *

   

                                                                                                                                                 _Now_

As soon as the door swung open the others flittered into the room pass him. He stood there numbly removing the flashlight from in-between his teeth and chancing it around the large study lab. The warm yellow glow caught onto the table tops, shelves, utensils and…everything was neat, fine. In fact, it looked like the office was damn near brand-new.

‘Clear.’ Someone called as Zayn moved over to the lab tables. Nothing was out of sort…

 

‘Clear.’ The others called out eventually as they secured the area before lowering their guns. Zayn hissed a noise at their aloofness. They weren’t done. There was no sign of the scientists which meant….so fucking much.

 

'There's nothing here,' someone found it helpful to call out.

 

‘Check the floor. It’ll lead to the cell door.’ Zayn ordered looking around the walls for the hidden compartment leading to the holding cell. He moved the flashlight onto the floor for a moment and found a couple specks of blood.

Zayn swore.

 

‘Found it, sir.’

 

Zayn immediately shone the flashlight to the boy who spoke then to the direction of his nod. If you squinted enough you could spot the small window to the knob less door ‘Open it.’

 

The rookies looked to one another then the tallest of them shook his head a second before nodding toward the door again. ‘It can only open from the inside out, sir.’

 

‘Well, then, kick it the fuck down.’ Zayn huffed because clearly he’s forgotten patience.

 

‘This door was constructed so that such a probability weren’t plausible. Sorry but that’s not possible.’

 

Zayn was this close to protesting again when a large _clang!_ echoed over the bell and throughout the entire room. Everyone turned their eyes onto the hidden door as it unhinged after the lock deactivated. And it was pure discipline how all of their guns were trained on the door before the noise had the chance to die out.

 

The door flew open and out of it came the gracelessness of an Irish blonde. His cursed yelp a telltale as he crashed clumsily into the chest of one of the rookies.

 

‘No, don’t shoot me!’ he pleaded after backing up hands raised in surrender as he squinted in to the light the flashlight produced.

 

Zayn waved a hand as a silent command for the others to lower their weapons. ‘Niall?’

 

‘Zayn? If that’s you, I’d appreciate it if you stop trying to blind me with that light saber you call a damn flashlight.’

 

Zayn, who was looking the lad over for scrapes, scratches and bite marks, shook himself mentally, ‘Sorry.’ He said lowering his offending hand. He allowed his friend to scrub at his eyes before, ‘What are you doing here?’

 

Niall snorted, ‘I work here Zayn.’

 

Smartass. ‘You’re okay then?’

 

The blonde frowned picking at his crisp white lab coat, straightening it self consciously ‘Yeh, why wouldn’t I be?’

 

‘We heard screams.’ A rookie clarified. ‘Where’s your partner?’

 

‘Alright, first that was me, and second it was lunch break.’ Niall answered on a cough before continuing. ‘I stayed to keep an eye on the subject but then the lights blew and it’s just that he kept pukin’ and shit and—do you know what that shit sounds like in the dark?’

‘The prisoner is secure?’ came the question.

 

A loud unattractive snort. ‘Don’t you think I’d be dead if he weren’t?’

 

‘Yeah? When’s the last time you saw him then?’ the rookie challenged.

 

‘Uhm about a minute ago dumbass.’ Niall chuckled with an exasperated shake of the head. ‘Zayn who the fuck hired these—Zayn?’ frowning at the lack of scolding and answer. Niall looked all around himself then to the empty spot Zayn had claimed a minute ago. He turned then finally noticing the vault door was gaping wide open now.

‘Zayn?’ he called moving in to the vault room after the silhouette of a thin figure.

The aforementioned was already far gone his focus moving his brain in time with his legs. He stood stock still in front of the large reflective cube right in the middle of the otherwise vacant room. He could see from the red emergency lights shining stunningly mainly along the left side of it. It was a massive shiny mirror cube…

Zayn could feel the others behind him now, but he acknowledged Niall, ‘What is this?’

Because it wasn’t like he’d been down here to see the crazy shit the V.E.C. officials thought were better for now. This was a mixture of extremely awesome verging on insane.

It caused Niall to chuckle a little, ‘Zayn, I’m pretty sure you know what this is, but okay. It’s a one way mirror glass cube with dimensional metres of 4x4x4. How it works is if the lights are off the captive will only be able to see reflections of himself on the mirror inside. Usually we can see him on the outside if we shine light through it. It’s the same type of stuff interrogators use in the crime shows on the telly. Only difference is the way this cube is built. There’s two layers one so if he looks he see’s his reflection, but another so he wont be able to see us when we shine light onto him so—Zayn. I wouldn’t get that close.’

Zayn ignored him, moving a bit closer to the reflective surface. He could see his reflection illuminated by the red lights shining from the hall. Even as he looked into his the blood red imaged of his reflection he saw that he was conflicted, more than he should’ve been. Jaw ticking; working as though it were the wheels on his train of thought, brow furrowed deeply, eyes darker in the red setting…he wanted to see, but…

‘Sir, please.’ A pleaded clearly since the alarm was further away due to their location in this holding room. ‘the captive performed hostile behaviour just under a half hour ago. He’s had time to rejuvenate.’

He wanted to do it. He lifted his flashlight a moment before pausing at his friend’s voice.

‘Tread lightly Zayn.’ Niall warned in a serious tone he only used when describing something scientific, ‘we’re not sure of what he’s capable of. I can tell something’s different with this bloke. And that’s just my scientific opinion without the spew of projectile blood vomit.’

A shivering breath sounded from one of the rookie agents. ‘bloody hell! What if he actually sees the light and freaks out enough to break the glass?’

‘Calm the fuck down,’ Zayn said with an eye roll. And he though his emotions were out of check. ‘if anything happens Niall will handle it.’ He mumbled moving the flashlight to point in from of him. Annnnd it was off. When did that happen?

He heard Niall snicker as he lifted the handle towards his face to shine some light on it. His damn shadow was blocking the light. A small _Click!_ sounded as his thumb slid up the right side of the handle.There. But then he heard a series of gasps as the light that appeared from the flashlight shined upon a figure crouched, back side visible, in the upper left corner of the cube. Zayn’s direction on the light wavered as he jerked his head back towards them. All of them but Niall wore grim expressions.

Zayn frowned and fixed his flashlight in the direction of the it. Looking through the glass was weird but it was comprehensive. He could still see his reflection, but he saw inside one of these things for the first time. Saw the cot drilled conveniently into the opposite side of the cubes wall, saw finally the floor on the corner of the cube stained with the richest shade of red. Blood. It spilled into a built in square drain vent littered with tiny holes. The white pillow at the head of Harry’s cot was relatively untouched. Zayn couldn’t see a door, but, something else was missing.

He carefully moved the flashlight so that it could shine on the other side of the cube searching curiously then his heart stopped. He flinched and jumped just about 3 feet in the air when the light revealed Harry was standing directly in front of Zayn’s face. It caused him to achieve official butterfingers when the flashlight began to slip out his grip.

Niall gently placed his hand over Zayn’s to take the flashlight away. The darker boy nodded his gratitude as Niall watched zayn warily, slowly lifting the light back to the face inside the cube prison. He stood in the same spot as before eyes shut, mouth twisted with something akin to disturbance, hair a curly mess atop his head, clothes a fucking mess.

And Zayn felt his face fall…he traced the tried blood underneath his nose and around his mouth with his eyes. Studied the rise of his pale nose, stared at the mole inches below his left eye, and then settles on the pink shade of his…lips. They were a pretty shade of colour sort of like the petals on a Japanese cherry blossom. The vampire’s shoulders lifted as he breathed solely into the air in front of him, and Zayn couldn’t resist.

‘Harry.’ he whispered inaudibly, but the vampire appeared to hear.

His eyes flew open then, corneas along with the white of his eyeballs covered in red pigment, probably a result of the blood splashing. They searched wildly around the surface of the glass in front of him, but Zayn knew he wouldn’t be able to see him…right? Harry closed his eyes again as he leaned into the glass a little further taking a what looked like a large breath in before releasing it. And Zayn could almost feel the rumble of the growl that rose from the other boy’s throat.

Harry lifted a large hand to rest against the glass as he took in another breath. It was a groan of deep satisfaction when he released the breath this time and the sound tugged on something deep in Zayn’s stomach. The way the bloody face morphed into the pleasure he appeared to feel resonated with the way the palm pressing into the glass of the cube slowly pushed into a claw. Zayn knew it shouldn’t have made his skin crawl so much the way Harry’s hand was placed directly where his face would be if the glass weren’t there. But it did, it crawled, heated, tightened and—

Harry breathed calmly for a second tapping the index finger against the glass, the echoing sound hollow. Zayn turned to the others to see how they were taking this, but they were already staring at him. or rather between he and Harry. Niall was eyeing the entirety of the glass cube as if it were a dissatisfaction in the worst ways when another growl, louder growl, rang throughout the cube and the vault room. But Zayn heard it before he saw it; the force of impact then the sound of tiny tinkering.

Zayn turned his frown onto the boy once more to find there was a total shift. His eyes still dull with the blood lining the lids now alive and blazing with sudden emotion, nose wrinkled, lips curved back far revealing all the confirmation he needed if he were still a doubter. The fangs pushing from under his top lip reminded him of the report he did on saber-tooth tigers back in elementary. And Zayn knew a purposeful fist swing when he saw one.

It didn’t stop all of them from flinching once more when his fist made contact with the glass, teeny fractures of it spilling onto the floor around him. the cracks were more than visible. If anyone knew more about punching things, it was Zayn. He could tell it was well calculated. The blow was spot on fucking precise and if the glass weren’t there Zayn’s face would be the same as the broken shards of glass weren’t there. but he didn’t move. Even as Harry looked as if he were pulling his fist back again.

‘Jesus Christ,’ one of the agents cried. ‘He’s going to break right through it. Niall do something.’

Another hollow _thump!_ sounded when his fist met the glass once more. More cracks came spreading out like a Lichtenberg figure.

‘Niall,’ another rookie insisted.

 _Crunch!_ louder this time.

Zayn watched cringing every time the fist met the glass but kept his gaze unwavering on the eyes focused of the hole Harry appeared to be trying to break his way through. It was still focused right on the point of Zayn’s nose.

‘Can he see me?’ he asked after a minute.

_Crunch! Thump! Crunch!_

Niall, who had focused his traitorous accusation glare onto the glass shattering bit by bit, gave a mixed answer. Shaking his head while raising his shoulders lithely, ‘I don’t think he can because he shouldn’t be able to. But obviously he senses your presence and can smell _you_ , its seems, in general….he shouldn’t be able to do that either. Find the dilemma?’

And then there was a louder _crack!_ the crunches and crashes following shocking as a larger quantity of shards chipped off and rained dusty material onto Harry’s dress shoes. They stuck to the sticky blood coating the tongue. The growl he let out was boarding on manic.

Zayn winced at the delirious smile Harry wore afterwards. It was sharpened dramatically with fangs, coldness, and his deadly intent, ‘Niall—’ he started about remind the scientist about that thing he mentioned about Niall “handling it,” but a strong hand gripped the muscle of his bicep and escorted him out of both the vault and study laboratory. He didn’t fight it, his feet submitting to the familiar presence on their own accord but he hadn’t the will to tear his eyes away from the scene until it was necessary; the sound of Harry’s pounding away at the glass slowly fading out of his hearing range.

 

*****

 

Liam turned the corner of the lab door and twisted to fix Zayn with a frown. The other boy was too bust poking his index finger into the hole of his ear ringing along with the screeching bell. Couldn’t the V.E.C. afford better alarm systems? Zayn leveled Liam with a questioned stare, trying to place his demeanor when the alarm suddenly died and the power started back up with a whirling sound.

Light poured around them, illuminating so brightly that the instant knee jerk reaction was to squint. Though the light was far better than the red back lights prior it did nothing to clarify what Liam was clearly trying to tell him without words. What Zayn did see was blood. It stained his hands, chin, and cloth of his khakis.

‘It’s not mine,’ Liam notifies, playing that mind reader role again. ‘Now down to business: You can’t be here.’

‘What—’

‘You alright there, Commander?’ a rookie solicited appearing behind Liam after he and the others stepped through the threshold. ‘You vanished for quite a bit.’

Liam turned a half glace over his shoulder then nodded towards his team, ‘I’m fine, I found what I was looking for. Why are you leaving?’ he asked eyeing the others who had begun down the opposite way of the hall.

The field agent jerked a thumb over in the door’s direction. ‘Scientist commands. He said he had it under control and we believed him since he had the captive out like a light in literally 5 seconds.’

Zayn froze, ‘what happened?’ and he couldn’t place the expression that crossed over the young agents face as he turned his gaze to him.

‘Well just after the commander pulled you out of there, that’s when the captive really started wailing on the glass. Niall said the lights came on just in time because he pulled out a panel controlling the settings on the cube and gassed it with a ton of fumed sedatives. After he lost consciousness, Niall began to act like a _real_ scientist, almost ripping his hair out because he couldn’t find his clipboard. He pulled out his utensils, turned on his computer, and ordered us to get out.’ A shrug then, ‘he had everything set.’

Liam dropped his hand on the agents shoulder, ‘alright boys, on your way then. I’ll see you at a more appropriate time of day.’

Zayn waited. He let his mentor give the men of his team the kind of gratitude Liam showed to everyone he thought did a job well done. Zayn let the agent smile victoriously at the admiration that was evident in his boss’s tone. He let them have that moment, but as soon as Liam turned back ‘the fuck do you mean I can’t be here?’

Liam breathed a heavy sigh, ‘just that. You can’t work this case.’

And Zayn of course exploded, arms splayed wide in presentation ‘Well why the hell not? What I’m not good enough anymore? Am I considered trash now?’  

‘No,’ Liam mumbled, forcing tired blood stained hands through his limp hair. ‘Don’t start on me with that insecurity shit. This has nothing to do with your capability.’

Zayn rubbed the hill of his palm against the throb increasing at the center of his forehead, ‘then what, Liam?’

‘You just can’t get involved; can’t you just accept a decision for once.’

‘You’ve already involved me Liam; you shouldn’t have if you were just going to rip the case away again. You know I always see things through to the end. You know that.’

_Who the fuck didn’t by now._

‘I’m not the one doing this, and I know you want answers just as badly as myself, but you can’t work with me on it.’

This was fucking rich. Just as soon as he gets what he’s been searching for 13 years, he gets the carpet torn from beneath his feet. Yeah, fancy his fucking life. Air pushed through his nostrils, as he removed the fingers massaging the bridge of his nose, ‘what aren’t you telling me.’ he asked looking into the bright earnest eyes observing him.

‘That you’re impossible and that you really should drop it.’

‘You’re not my boss anymore.’ He retorted with an annoyed eye roll but Liam only nodded for a moment.

‘That’s true,’ he countered thoughtfully, ‘but the Board is both our bosses for now, and they informed me that you weren’t to come within an arms reach of Harry or the case building around him. It’s what I was trying to tell you before you hung up on me. So sweet of you by the way.’

Zayn’s eyes moved from Liam, to the ceiling, to the door of Niall’s lab, to the scientists moving busily around them now, and then back to Liam. He cupped the muscle of Zayn’s shoulder before sighing patiently. ‘Look, I know you have a load of questions…I do as well, but you can answer some of them when you meet with the actual boss coming in the morning. The Board told me to notify you that he’s set up a one on one meet n’ greet 8:00 A.M. sharp. So, you really shouldn’t stick around any longer than you have to tonight.’

Liam moved away with a purse of his lips. He walked back stepped in slow movements calculating the stunned look on Zayn’s face. Zayn could only stare, let his eyes follow with the two scientists that Criss Crossed behind Liam before heading on their way. What was he supposed to feel after all these years of trying not to?

Liam turned finally, walking off with a half aborted shake of his head, ‘Go home Zayn.’

****

Zayn didn’t of course. But he did retreat back to the training barracks. Its not like Perrie were waiting for him with a hot meal, she worked too damn hard to even cook for herself half the time. It wouldn’t surprise him if she had picked up an extra nursing shift at the hospital since he hadn’t received a text from her the entire day. He wasn’t hungry anyway; and it’s not like him to crave company particularly as well, but there was a first for everything.

He was fine around others, the agents going about their everyday routines because it’s not like rogue vampires had an off switch field agents escorting captives to lab doors, yeah he felt cloaked in a way, protected from the turmoil verging closer and closer to melt down mode. Around them, it’s easy to disguise his scowl for being that he’d finally having to come down to escort a vampire, because he it seems he never will. It’s easy to pretend that his mind wasn’t racing a million thoughts per minute and that he was alert to everything around him. That’s what the people of V.E.C. expected of the infamous Zayn Malik.

It was a lie.

As soon as he entered the silence of the dark training barracks he knew that he was alone. The others probably gone home after a hard days work, rookies probably beat with exhaustion after the grilling trainers put them through. There was no need for them to stay. Zayn didn’t bother to switch on the lights; the large dim yellow lamps above the door of the exits were enough. They were warming compared to the cool outside air from London chilling the atmosphere in the tunnels. So he sighed, closed the double doors behind him, walked over to the lockers and began to strip the protective hunting gear off.

Never had a day stopped and restarted leaving him wound up in a way he thought would be impossible. He wasn’t sure how to explain his actions or where to put his mind first, the day being such an eventful one. But honestly he’d much rather the day had never happened in the first place. Ya know, since there was no one here to lie to.

Liam told Zayn on repeated accounts that Zayn was reminiscent of Yellowstone National Park. He didn’t have to live in New York to know that he was being compared to the caldera silently ticking away while growing stronger by the year. It should fill someone with pride being compared to the likeliness of powerful volcano that could literally end the world if it decides to finally blow its top; a super volcano. But it filled him with dread.

It bothered him how easily Liam could see through his masks, stare through his give em hell façade as if it mocked the transparency of water. it was true, Zayn was the type to keep everything all bottled up inside until maximum becomes the minimum. He didn’t like the thought of being a ticking time bomb, or a sociopath so full of himself that they don’t even notice the haphazard’s they cause whenever they walk into a room. He didn’t want that, but there was no denying it: he already had it honest.

****

He taught himself how to use outlets whenever the world or himself became crueler, because it’s not that he enjoyed being a dick to whoever associated with him. He hated to feel the shift of the weight on his shoulders every time he moved. He hated that a good wank, Liam, Perrie, or even Mary Ann couldn’t get him out of his funks when he’s gone into one of his moods.

So what he like to do when all else failed was punch the living shit out of something. Preferably with padded gloves and a durable punching bag. It was the best way for him not to think even when his brain begged for answers. So Zayn didn’t hesitate to pull on his Nike shorts, tennis shoes, and his black sleeveless wife beater. Now he needed music.

Zayn turned and bent toward the wooden bench to search around in his duffle bag for his pants with his phone inside them. He woke it to see it was 3:47 A.M. and that he had zero messages, no surprise there. Zayn scrolled easily to the settings to find the alarm so he could set it for 7:00. He plugged the white buds into the sockets of his ears and moved towards the training mat as smooth bass took over everything.

\----

If one would guess this was exactly what Zayn needed: to lose himself in a controlled environment. He needed to lose himself without actually losing it. That’s exactly what this exercise allowed him to do. So he let the music sync in tune with every arm he swung, dodge his performed when the bag flung back at him with the force his combo strikes and kicks. He lost himself to the heat at the surface of his skin; it almost felt like it would sizzle the sweat sliding down over it and it was marvelous.

He punched harder, swung lower, kicker higher, dodged sharper, exerted stronger and swifter until he wasn’t sure how he lost when the track on his phone went from 49 to 382. It was all enough until Harry’s face flashed vivid like in his head, and it was like being burned; the way his hand snatched back, fist coiled just tight enough. It froze midway….he couldn’t.

_Fuck_

Zayn started at the sudden trill interrupting the thump of his frantic heartbeat. Huffing a humorless chuckle he pulled the device from his pocket to snooze it. He plucked an ear bud from one of his ears and was finally allowed to actually hear the sound accustomed with his heaving chest. After looking around at the dark corners of the training gym and relaxed a bit. Truthfully he wouldn’t have been able to tell if anything had changed at all due to being in the tunnel.

Zayn felt the cloth of his shirt sticking to his chest. He glanced down to see that there was a misshapen triangle of sweat there and equally damp spots under the slots of his underarms. He headed toward the door of the locker room, chucking his phone once he got near his duffle before moving in on the stall of showers.

****

He didn’t think this through properly. He really didn’t. Zayn cringed as he pulled on the articles of clothing he had worn the day before. And it was such a disgusting thing to do after you gone and cleaned dirt and grime away, but it was all he had. He didn’t have time to go home and change. But wearing his gym clothes would’ve been worse because of the sweat and the presentation. He couldn’t go up to the offices wearing clothes considered to be dress down material. It would be offensive.

A chime sounded causing zayn to look towards the open zip of his duffle. It was a text alert. He freed his phone to see if he could get away with ignoring the text but it read _Liam._ He always brang great news.

It read: _When you come in, go to the top floor. Ask for commander in chief. He’ll be waiting._

‘I’m already here,’ he mumbled, glancing at the waning clock and then squirming as his dress shirt chafed his slightly damp skin. With the amount of perspiration left over on him, it wouldn’t take long for the clothes to actually start smelling like stale sweat. He pocketed his phone before a wicked smile shaped his lips. He suddenly knew the perfect place to find a decent change of clothes. Liam wouldn’t mind.

\----

Zayn pushed into the darkened office belonging to that of Liam Payne. Of course he wasn’t in yet, he was only human. Zayn snorted closing the cherry wooden door behind him before walking over to the cabinet to the left. He passed the desk still stacked with those case files Liam was sifting through the night before Zayn had took that case in America. Somehow it appeared even messier than what he remembered (something that should be both illegal and impossible), probably due to the Internal Affairs searching through it.

He opened the closet space to find the spare clothes he knew Liam kept in his office. It was because he was totally prone to getting coffee, ketchup, or even bird shit stains on his clothes. It’s something Zayn teases him about when he feels like Liam’s trying to poke fun at him. It’s a winner, mentioning how Liam could step in dog shit and some how it’ll end up on the back of his shirt too.

The last time he had spared a glance at clock it was a quarter till 8:00 so he rushed while considering he choices, eventually deciding on a grey blazer and matching slacks that both looked fairly expensive. _You’re such a dummy Zayn,_ his inner monologue pestered as he pulled on the sleeve of the black silky shirt. _Why dress up to meet someone who might be planning to fire you? If you were someone else you’d do exactly the same._

 _No_ he wouldn’t.

But the question was an honest one. Whoever this specifically asked that he not be able to work on a case he considered to be gold. He should be showing his ass if this bastard was trying to fuck up the only real stability he achieved after the death of his family. A mad part of his brain insisted that if did try to fire him, he’d go out in real style not just by wearing Liam’s ridiculously pricy suit but supplying a well deserved right hook. Cause that would be classic.

He snorted, throwing his wad of dirty clothes in the far corner of the closet. It more than likely Liam would wash them and send them to Zayn before he would even think about scolding him. That’s who Liam was.

When Zayn reached the top floor of the building, he strolled out of the elevator, shoes tapping lightly in the almost complete silence of the floor; the sound of keyboards clicking over the soft mangle of chatter and rings of telephones. It was a huge relief to see such a calming business environment after the chaos he witnessed the day before. Zayn felt several eyes turn to his—no doubt—suspicious presence, but he continued to walk unfazed; eyes flickering over every cube but not really seeing anything.

It was when he reached the head office to find the room empty and dark did his frustration start to spike. With a look to the hand clock above threshold of the door he saw that it was now….8:02. And it normal for people to turn up late to meetings, but for the people that initiate the meeting to do it….its just unacceptable. _Atta boy Zayn. Build up the smallest issues for reasons to hate this newbie._

‘Excuse me?’ a sweet voice admonished. Zayn turned to find a chocolate haired tiny woman moving to stand and giving him a look fixed with her tone, ‘can I help you?’

Can you? She looked thirteen, tall enough to pass for an adolescent but short enough for her head to reach approximately up to his shoulder. Her childlike face blurred lines with the pencil skirt she wore, along with her burnt red loafers. ‘Yes, I was told the commander in chief was expecting me.’

She stepped from behind her chair, waves falling over her chest when as she tilted her head curiously ‘Zayn Malik?’

He pocketed his hands looking boredly at the closed office door, ‘should I know your name too or—’

‘No, um—it’s Olia but—forget I ever—excuse my word vomit sir, uh. Ehrm, he told me to expect you. The commander in chief.’ she said, cheeks flushing as red as her shoes when Zayn stared at her; face expressionless. She rushed past her wheeled office chair so fast that it spun. The smell of cinnamon and peppermints practically punching him in the nose rushed pass and paused with her hand on the round knob. ‘As his assistant, it’s my job to let you in. Forgive me if you were told otherwise.’

Damn, he felt a cavity coming on. She turned the knob and pushed the door open, revealing the room pre lit with the sunrise looming into the windows. Zayn stepped in, eyes surveying the barren office space. Of course it was bare.

Olia, twisting insistently at her tiny hands cleared her throat after a moment, ‘I’ll uh, I’ll leave you to it, waiting for him,’ she said her smile nervous and throat working, ‘he’ll be in shortly.’ Then she was gone, spinning on her heels and hauling ass towards her cubicle.

‘Thanks jail bait,’ he mumbled quietly, genuinely. He ignored the light switch for the second time that day and moved towards the large expansive pane of the window. It was sunny outside, and it ate away at his nerves that he felt like he’d seen the sun for the first time right now. How utterly captivating it was peeking from behind the puffy clouds every once in a while. It was beautiful in its power and simplicity. It just proved that the world could be a large bowl of maggots and steaming shit, but it had its moments of clarifying why it exists.

‘I always wondered what you’d look like in a suit.’ A voice informed and his stomach lurched so violently that projectile vomit felt an inhale away.

He knew that voice, he knew it and he knew that he’d never forget it no matter how hard he tried. He refused to turn; he wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. Couldn’t.

‘It didn’t take me long to realize that you wouldn’t disappoint often, even as a kid.’ Zayn heard the movements, footfalls sounding over his thundering heart. ‘You know, you always had this way about you, so strong and alluring….it rattled my nerves senseless, but you already know that.’

Zayn said nothing, focusing instead on the traffic way, _way, **way**_ below. He didn’t care if he didn’t have wings right now; the cement below was already looking heaven sent. What the fuck was his life? He wanted to break the window and jump just to turn over mid fall and stare at the sky asking: are you satisfied? Because if he ever had doubted fate was out to fuck him over then he was a truly a dumbass.

Through the inner turmoil Zayn’s body sustained, he felt the heat of the other man settle somewhere nest to his left where he couldn’t see him. But, out of his peripheral he could see the side of his profile; hip cocked resting easily against the windowsill, arms crossed over the buttons on his navy blue suit jacket. He even caught a glimpse of the hair once baby blonde like Erik’s, now sandy with strips of dark brown.

‘You know Zayn, it’s considered really rude to ignore someone’s presence; especially when they’re your boss. That’ll look exceptional on your dark mark of records yes?’ voice warm, amused, rich, velvety and—

Someone set him up. This was blackmail. On two counts, it had to be.

Zayn turned his head to look into the handsome face of his new boss. _Kill me now_. He had finally received a growth spurt obviously, built slim muscles around his arms and torso, and had a stronger jaw line. Aside from frown marks over his eyebrows and around his mouth, the fucker hadn’t changed a bit. Thomas Pfaff beamed, smile practically splitting his face in two. For someone to be smiling at him like it was Christmas every day, and like he didn’t break their jaw, had to be a very forgiving person. There’s that fairytale shit again. Thomas was a pig.

‘There he is!’ Thomas grinned, and Zayn’s own face was starting to ache with the strain Thomas’s face muscles were going through. ‘You look stunning, darling! The world has been kind to your physique.’

Zayn had nothing to say. So why even try to respond?

‘Uh oh,’ Thomas tsked while cocking his head innocently against the glass window. His eyes were a smoldering burn that lit a fire somewhere inside him. It wasn’t attraction; it wasn’t anger, or even annoyance. It was disgust. ‘Something tells me that you aren’t happy to see me. Are you not Zayn? After everything we’ve been through together I thought I wouldn’t be the only one wanting rekindle.’

What he wanted was to hit him so hard his teeth spun but Thomas didn’t need to know that. Instead he spared him a look of great disdain. _Really Thomas?_

He supplied him back with an incredulous stare, ‘have you gone mute? If you have that’s a terrible shame. You had such a marvelous voice—’

‘I’m not sure what you want me to say.’

‘He speaks!’ and can you spell aggravating? ‘And there’s no need to feel nervous around me, I just wanted to see you. Didn’t you?’

Zayn blinked, before turning his eyes back onto the yellow of the sun, ‘now, I’m sure you don’t want my answer to that.’

A defiant humph came as Thomas placed a offended hand over his chest, ‘yes I do.’

Zayn smirked wryly with a jerk of his shoulder, ‘No, you don’t.’

‘Then what do _you_ want, Zayn?’ Thomas asked paving into that precarious nature Zayn knew so well. ‘Tell me.’

It was like nothing had changed, they were in back in his tree house where he could smell the fresh paint and the soil caked between the grips of their shoes. He could feel the heat of Thomas’s body; close and solid, and he could taste cherry Jolly Rancher on the corner of his lips. He hated cherry Jolly Rancher.

Zayn wanted to threaten him, he wanted to hit him, he wanted to spew a million and two questions at him, but it’s not what he needed. ‘I want to break this window,’ he started honestly ignoring how close Thomas was. How taller he was of him even when slouching against the glass. The answering chuckle was dry and short.

‘And what hack me to death with a shard? You’d be ruining your own life then.’

His heart lurched with something akin to yearning… ‘No, we both know I wouldn’t need tools if I wanted to shut you up.’

There was a long pause where Zayn might have anticipated a fist being flung at him, but then there was a sharp bark of laughter. He turned to see the sound Thomas’s laugh had died off because his head was thrown back, Adam’s apple shifting with the giggle fit he was having. ‘You haven’t changed a bit. Still sassy and stubborn as ever.’

‘and while we’re on the subject of our little incident, he feel I should give you the details you need since the last time I saw you, you wouldn’t ride with me in my ambulance.’ he never asked him to, and why the fuck would he? ‘Hear this?’ he asked before stretching his mouth open like he was yawn before closing it back. A tiny _tink!_ followed the closing of the jaw muscle. Zayn almost smirked.

‘Yeah, I heard it.’

‘That is the sound of the metal plates surgeons used to reconstruct my jaw. You basically pulverized it, buddy. They told me that I would be able to use it normally, but I’ll remember what happened because of the noise it’ll make when I yawn.’

It’s true that Thomas was a prevaricate schlong snob, but he wasn’t an idiot. Zayn knew simply because Thomas was at the top of all his classes. Everything he said usually lead to something reasonably valid. Zayn just wished he would get to the point while they’re young and all. Seriously breathing the same air as him was making Zayn want to gag.

‘Before then, I would’ve betted money on you not being able to swat a fly, but you…you were always full of surprises. I was always the one left dumbfounded. It shouldn’t have surprised so bad when I found out you were in this line of work given your nature to hurt things, no surprise that it did. So….I guess it’s time I one up you, yeah?’

He resisted showing emotion other than mild curiosity. He really hated Thomas’s type of people. The other man removed himself from the glass and moved toward the bare, chair less, desk to rest against that. Zayn turned his body mirroring the other man’s easily.

‘Here’s how this is going to work. I know how much this job means to you Zayn so pay attention. I am your boss; you work for me as an employee. You follow my rules, or I’ll break your membership off just as cleanly as you did my jaw. I have that power now; thus I suggest you don’t try to bullshit me. Do as I say or you’re out of here.’

And it was like short in a cable; how warm he was one sec, how cold he was the other. His voice had gone all emotionless, hard and forceful, and his eyes as serious as his tone. Zayn was a fucking puppet now.

‘Why— why did you call for a meet with me? You’re everyone else’s boss as well?’ did he say this to the rest of the V.E.C. agents or was Zayn just unbelievably blessed?

Thomas’s lips curled at the corners, but it didn’t reach his eyes, ‘I told you, I wanted to see you. Have so for almost 13 years. But I wanted to tell you personally that as long as you’re willing to keep you’re precious job, you will do what I ask, when I ask; in a perfectly legal way of course. I needed to get it through to you because you are promiscuous in your way to dodge out line and do what Zayn wants to do. I read up your file, that’s no more.’    

‘So hear me now Zayn, stay away from the Styles case. That is being properly handled by equally capable employees and I don’t want you anywhere near it. Why? Because it’s what I want. Now, these are my orders, chose your fate by choosing who to listen to.’ He said holding up two hands silently. They moved as if they were a scale; one side for Zayn and the other for Thomas. _Fucking hell._

Thomas tucked a hand underneath his arm to curl around his back, while the other one gestured at all of Zayn, ‘Did you catch all of that or were you just tuning me out like you used to do?’

‘I heard every word,’ like he used to. Zayn was just grateful it came out even and steady instead of the growl he felt trying to claw its way up his throat.

‘Oh, good,’ Thomas smirked. ‘Now get the hell out of my office.’

\----

What does it feel like to be set in stone, to be engraved deep in the bark of a tree? What would feelings—emotions— say if they could talk? That’s all Zayn thought about as he rode numbly in the back corner of the elevator. Because it was like a splash of cold water in the face; suddenly these emotions frozen solid for all those years were beginning to thaw.

They opened to him, and he didn’t have a name for any of them; but they triggered memories, the potent ones he locked out of his wall of safety when he built one for a home. He didn’t want to remember, he didn’t want to think about them, but he wanted to understand. Plead with the pressure on his brain and the one pressing against his chest to tell him how to feel and why to feel it. The elevator dinged and he sorted his way through the agents. He walked feet pulling him slowly to his destination.

If it were up to Zayn he’d be a quitter, he would actually lock himself in a mental institution so long as he wouldn’t have to understand. But it’s not his job to be a loser and he couldn’t do that to the ones who at least thought he was worth caring about. So instead of becoming a schizophrenic, he went to the sappiest person who he always thought felt entirely too much. Liam. He pulled out his cell phone to send a warning.

 _I’m coming down. We need to talk._   

As soon as the familiar door came into view he noticed that the lights were still off. Liam never took sick days; he would never if he had a case this large. A case that should have been jointed between the two of them and now he felt like whining _. Living on a prayer aren’t ya Zayn?_

He pushed heavily through the door of Commander Payne’s office and sulked as soon as the shaded blinds clothed him with darkness. He closed the door behind him and pushed pass the horrid desk to plop uselessly into the cushioned four wheeled chair; arms crossed tightly over his chest. What now? He was being water boarded by the sPawn of Everything **EVIL**. _Wait till Liam gets here. If you don’t the loony wagon will be waiting for you._

Now his thoughts were assholes too. Zayn scoffed at his own madness. He almost immediately reached for his slacks’ pocket thinking his cigarettes were going to be there, but he stopped himself. This was Liam’s form fitting expensive suit and they weren’t there. If they were he wouldn’t ruin it with the odor tobacco seemed to leave permanently. They wouldn’t solve this situation anyway.

He heaved a sigh propping up and removing a hand so he could ball a loose fist against him mouth. Taking a look at the desk in front of him he spotted a safety belt. And for the first time he noticed that with the light pooling in from both the shading on the door to the ones covering the window, the files had been tampered with while since he had last been there. The side of his neck itched, and a slight burning accompanied that of the side of his head.

This wasn’t the regular itch you got when something rubbed you wrong, and his head wasn’t burning to due the headache that was dulling bit by bit as he reprimanded himself. No. This was the type of feeling you got when someone was staring directly sat you and you don’t see it until you look up. Zayn eyes the gun belt that looked suspiciously like his own because who else carried around a jack knife? Only the catch 22 was that his should be where he left it; in the closet with his clothes…right? Liam wouldn’t leave his gun belt out with his _gun_ still in it.

He went on to act as if noting had happened until he saw a hint of movement in the darkened corner between the space of Liam’s file tall metal file cabinet and the door of his opened closet. The door was right next the window, hinges connected to the left side. The space was shielded from any light the window would cast so that area was just dark enough to hide _something._

So….his eye was on that knife. His blood ran cold at the thought of turn his head to find something staring back at him directly inches from his face his face. He shivered with the nightmares thoughts like that used to bring onto him a kid. So he didn’t turn right away, was opting to ignored his paranoia until it happened again, the slight shift in darkness invisible to the untrained eye, and his stomach dropped. He wasn’t alone in this room.

He breathed heavily into the ball of his tightening fist. He might as well have booked a room for the nuthouse. He was arguing with his own thoughts, asking feelings if they could talk, and now add paranoia. Slowly, inch by inch, he turned slowly toward the darkness that screamed for his attention; beckoned him with devious intentions. Almost all the tendons in his neck had turned towards his far right, eyes slowly purposefully skipping over the dark spot. He was almost to the point where he could look directly into the spacious area of the partly lit closet, but then—

The office door burst open, and when Liam strolled in Zayn released a giant breath. He didn’t scream, faint, or jump like he wanted and that fucking heaven. That would have been embarrassing. ‘That’s a nice suit you’ve got on there, looks just like mine.’

Zayn greeted him with a look of salvation that Liam wouldn’t understand why he got until he told him, ‘it is.’ He admitted pushing out and standing up from the desk chair looking on expectantly at his best friend. Liam looked a bit anxious, shifting every second or so.

‘What’s got you so excited?’ he asked tone low with mockery.

Liam smiled sheepishly ‘This talk. Can it wait?’ and what the fuck?

He must of read the morphing emotions on Zayn’s face like a book, so he went on quickly glancing off to his left briefly ‘Its not that I’m uninterested it’s just that, I—I’m very busy with—’

‘Really,’ Zayn taunted. ‘The first time I actually come to you for your run on versions of advice and you fucking turn me down. That’s just a load of heaving—’

And he was soo caught up in planning to blow his gasket, he noticed Liam’s eyes widen, but the reason why; or the fact that he was staring openly at the area of his closet. ‘Ummmm…’

‘—bull shit, you dickhea—what? What are you—?’ he broke off to look after Liam’s stare. A pale figure loomed openly between the slot of that darkened area and Zayn heart stopped. He actually did jump this time, practically out of his skin.

Harry: Tall, powerful, terrifying, murderous, sociopathic blood drinking vampire, Harry had been in this room with him _all along_. His body, legs and thundering heart in general, chose flight over fight but he couldn’t leave Liam…. not after he had tried to kill him before.

It was instinct how in one swipe, he had his knife in his hand and was raising it to what he thought was his personal space, but a hand caught his wrist before he could swing it : A warm _large_ , pale hand and his knees nearly gave out. The boy was standing right in front of him, staring at him calmly almost like he was amused. And wow his hand was really warm.

The way his brow furrowed as he looked at Zayn’s hand gripping the knife took whatever the amount of air left in his lungs away. It shuddered out of him, causing him to raise his pretty lashes towards Zayn’s eyes again.

Green. _Green_! They were fucking green.

He stared him right in the eyes, and lifted his free hand to tug the knife free and it came easily as if it were slicked with oil. Harry held the knife before twisting the blade downward and letting it drop. He heard the _crack!_ as the blade penetrate through the floor, but he didn’t look. He didn’t dare take his eyes from the vampire in front of him. Harry had just simply dropped the knife and it pushed through fucking concrete.

Zayn’s other hand hung loosely at his side as he stared, frozen, captivated, horrified. He wanted to yell for Liam to run since the vampire was obviously waiting for Liam. He was hiding in Liam’s office, he hadn’t revealed himself until Liam came in. He had planned this.

‘Liam r—’ he started but chocked off on a gasp. Another large warm hand pressed gently across the center of his chest encouraging him to move, he hit the window softly and heard the shades skitter against the glass. He went willingly; legs like jelly, as he gazed into Harry’s pink mouth panting like he’d run the entire galaxy. He could feel the sweat pooling at his hairline, heat pooling in his stomach.

‘Relax.’ Harry spoke, patiently. Harry was staring at the left side of his chest clearly following his panicked—aroused?—heart beat joining the ringing in Zayn’s ears… Oh fuck, was he about to faint? He felt cold, distorted, like he was….freefalling and spiraling.

‘Zayn?’ he heard faintly. ‘Oh! It’s a panic attack, mind yourself.’ He heard Liam warn _Harry_ as he moved over his shoulder and into Zayn’s line of vision. The warmth was gone but still, Zayn’s eyes didn’t leave Harry’s until the vampire turned his own away when he walked around to the other side of the desk to perch his bum on the center piece's edge. He probably felt the holes Zayn was burning into his back.

‘Hey, look at me. You need to calm down before you give yourself a stroke.’ Liam coaxed gently. Just as gently as Harry had when he talked to him and touched him; in fact his grip was never tight. ‘Zayn? Breathe for a second.’

‘I’m breathing Liam,’ he struggled husky and labored like. Eyes focused on the twitch of Harry’s head at his voice.

‘Not enough.’ He said stubbornly, gripping a hand around the buff of his shoulder. And Zayn could almost laugh at how much Liam sounded like himself right now. ‘Close your eyes. Come on do it Z, close em’

‘I fucking cant!’ he insisted watching as a small girl came in and stood in front of Harry. He tried to push onto his tiptoes when Liam scolded him. ‘Zayn, you’re regressing. You’re breathings getting worse. Don’t make have to slap you out of this.’

Zayn sucked in a breath and groaned, ‘what the fuck is he doing up here?’

‘Maybe I’ll tell you when you calm down.’

‘Why was he—he. How long has he been in here Liam, I swore when I walked in I was alone. I felt like I was going fucking batshit!' He said eyeing Liam before going back to Harry who was now standing with outstretched arms. He could see the girl-dwarfed by his height moving around in front of the vampire.

‘I knew I was being watched. You know I hate that shit more than words. He was just standing there.’ he went on knowing that Liam was nodding at him like a parent would a frantic child.

‘I told him to wait here; perhaps he was hiding because he knew you would attack him.’

Puh-lease ‘Did you not see what he did with my knife?’ He asked glancing at the jack knife sticking ramrod straight out of the concrete. ‘Why would he be scared of being attacked by me?’

‘He wouldn’t have attacked you, he can’t. It’s against his contract.’ Liam sighed after deciding Zayn’s breathing was close to normal and what? A contract?

Zayn pulled a breath into his nose ‘go on.’

‘What we know about the vampires, Harry in general, is kind of wrong, he isn’t a king, but he is still important. He’s notified me of his status as a well known and powerful vampire Lord, and has agreed to be a liable asset for the V.E.C. Corporation.’

Just—what?

Zayn frowned moving his eyes towards Liam, ‘why?’

Liam pushed his large shoulders upwards, ‘he said he was tired of waiting. With whatever that meant, he signed the deal and agreed to help track down the actual vampire King controlling the hits he and the others perform, remember we talked about those?’

Zayn huffed out a laugh, and sighed at the way his blood was still buzzing, ‘I suffered from a panic attack, not selective memory loss.’

‘Oh, well that great news considering that for a minute there you actually forgot how to breathe.’ And he could have laughed if his focus weren’t back on the vampire.

‘Mr. Payne?’ a feminine voice called out causing Liam to turn, ‘we can move this back down to the lab if you please?’ she says, posture relaxed like she unaware of the power that loomed over her shoulder. Harry avoided looking up, instead staring at something shiny glinting off something metallic around his wrists. ‘Sure Miranda, i'll be down in a few.’

Zayn watched her nod, it almost looked like she wanted to bow, but then she was following the tall vampire out of the open door.

He let his eyes follow them until they turned a corner out of sight. ‘Is she safe?’

‘He can’t hurt anyone, I told you. Its apart of his contract, also Niall invented these chainless cuffs. They restrict the amount of force a vampire can exert depending on their strength. It’s like a house arrest anklet, for now.’

Zayn’s heart was crashing again though he’s not entirely certain of why. This was a great time for that talk, ‘Did you figure out why he was vomiting blood?’

‘No. it was spontaneous. Coming and going. That’s something I’ll have to ask him. We haven’t gotten that far, you know. Just enough for him to wake from his gas coma, hear what we had to say, and give his side of it. We were signing documents informing his assistance, and I had to get them faxed to the board. That’s where you came in.’

Zayn blinked. Remembering how he had strolled in the office so pissed with all the Thomas shits, that he’s had completely missed something right in front of him. He should have learned the first time around, but now it’s like he was begging to be killed by a vampire.

‘What we do know is that he’s different. There are all kinds of vampires that carry things that differentiate them from another, but he is warm to the touch. He actually breathes from what I see, and forgive if I think that may mean he has a working heart.’

That’s definitely different.

‘It’s like he’s a totally different brand of vampire. Its exciting and terrifying at the same time.’ Liam confessed his facial expression the exact picture of both. ‘I’ve got to go, Zayn. The lab’s waiting; we can talk once you find a mutual break point.’

Liam was turning to leave and Zayn’s vocal chords were fixing to tighten up, ‘you mind if I just….tag a long? You know as an eyewitness, to the examination?’

And there was a pause of uncertainty, like Liam knew what would happen to Zayn’s ass (probably his too) if he did any actual paper work or investigation on Harry’s case. He was always considerate of danger when it came to Zayn, but he was willing to plead if it came to it.

‘Yeah, alright,’ He smiled. ‘Just don’t touch or say anything Zayn.’ He finishes turning after giving him the stern you-better-listen-to-me- face and a mindful finger waggle.

He was such a grandpa.

 

****

 

Zayn blames the long day because it was simple. A long day fueled by stress and sleep deprivation, he thinks as he curls into couch in his flat. Liam called him a cab as soon as he found out that he hadn’t slept for over 48 hours.

‘You fucking idiot,’ he scolded in front of everyone. ‘Get your ass in that cab and don’t come back until you sleep approximately two days worth.’

Maybe that’s what made him cranky Liam snapping at him for his recklessness, but that's not it because that happens all the time. Maybe it was the emotions he couldn’t seem to get a hold of. He had been grumpier than before, entering Niall's lab silently but maintaining his distance; mildly glaring as a dainty female lab agent (clearly smitten with he vampire) did a nervous dance around him. 

When it came down to checking for his heartbeat she hesitated. Zayn watched Harry take her hand, inhaling it like a banquet of flowers before sliding it down the side of his neck. The way she turned beet red and took her time checking his vitals and it had Zayn wanting yell. At her for not knowing how to do her job, at himself for being bipolar and at the world for usual reasons.

He was sure turning into a ugly green monster would not help solve his problems so he sucked it up until he tripped over nothing.

Like seriously stumbling over thin air and almost breaking his teeth on the concrete floor. It caused Liam to ask him if he were drunk. A ridiculous question.

Harry hadn’t paid him attention, in fact he didn't even spare a glance at Zayn's near blundering mishap. He just spoke to Liam and the scientist when spoken to. Maybe being ignored was that of his irritation. Not just by Liam writing down notes here, taking notes there, or talking to someone over here. No one was acknowledging him, but Harry bothered him the worse. Its probably because of the fact that he’d only spoken one word to him… and suddenly _I cant get no satisfaction_ was stuck on his brain like a earworm. Fucking Rolling Stones.

This shit was stupid.

Zayn turned over onto his side away from the other couches; one of which is where Tetsuo had curled up. Perrie’s gonna throw a fit if she catches him in here. But it was worth it, spending time with people who appreciated his attention. Zayn yawned drowsily as he cuddles his cheek into the curve of a leather pillow. He was going to regret this so bad when he woke.

****

The first thing his consciousness caught onto was the pitter patter of ran drops. Of course it would rain. He shifts and feels sleep summoning his presence back when soundly he felt the burning itch again. Zayn arose graceless from his slumber scratching at his side of his face before jolting at the thunderclap that struck above. His hand fell off the couch knocking gently against the cold floor.

He frowned. Usually during thunderstorms Tetsuo stayed near, that’s his spot whenever Zayn decided stupidly to fall asleep on the couch. He always woke with a back ache. The spot was empty. Damn it.

He groaned in annoyance, and realized Tetsuo probably bolted in panic and was most likely having melt down, tearing up sheets, or pissing on something. Damn dog. Zayn sighed and pushed himself onto his forearm while achieving to successfully crack one sleep crusted eye open towards his feet and—

He was nearly put to permanent sleep for the rate that was his heart stopping. _Holy. Fucking. Shit._

 _Jesus._ ‘Would you STOP doing that?’ He positively growled at the figure perched on the arm of the couch he’d been asleep on. His legs were pulled up to his chest, a hand between them balancing the weight of his body.

He got no answer, instead movement; A curious tilt of his curly haired head.

Zayn sighed again trying to regulate his breathing. This job was beginning to get unhealthy for his heart. ‘What the fuck are you doing in my house? How’d you get in?’ he asked looking around to see if anything was broken or tainted.

Harry, clad in a leather jacket, dark jeans, and a green shirt that matched his eyes, exhaled a short soundless chuckle, ‘the pretty blue eyed blonde let me in on her way out. Who is she?’

‘She’s my fiancée.’ He growled. And Zayn didn’t know if he should be pissed at the thought of Harry hitting on his fiancé or the thought of harry being with his fiancée. He grunted pulling his legs over the couch with irritated huff. ‘Why are you here? Aren’t you on a massive lock down or summat?’ because its not like zayn wanted him there.

‘Liam sent me to check on you. Take care of you if you needed.’ Harry dismissed as he slid easily into the other end of the couch. ‘And if you recall I'm not a prisoner anymore. I work for him the same as you do.’

‘ _Did_.’

‘Did,’ Harry corrected as if it mattered, but then it was quiet.

‘And I’m a grown ass man. I don’t need a babysitter.’ He grumbled scratching at the back of his neck, and stifling a yawn. ‘Right. So I’m fine, the only issue I have right now is with you interrupting my sleep. That’s a massively barbaric thing to do, so do me a solid and get the fuck out, yeah? Bounce.’ He dismissed. But the request may as well have fallen on deaf ears.

Maybe if he sprayed Harry with the holy water Mary Ann’s aunt Pippa kept hidden inside the plant vases, he would get the picture. He didn’t like to ask twice, or at all.

But this was torture, the feelings overcoming his body other than annoyance and deep, deep regret. It was traitorous the way his stomach suddenly did summersaults because the vampire was finally looking at him, like really looking at him. He knew Harry was without even doing the same. He refused to this time; though he could feel his skin tightening all over his body, chills running down his spine and heat settling low in his stupid stomach. God, even the dent between his eyebrows was Making him squirm.

Zayn jumped at the fact that Harry was right next to him now, heat pulsing into his side, breath fanning the length of his face. ‘Harry, what the fuck are you doing?’

The vampire only smiled. The answer to the question already answered when he stroked a warm finger down the column of his neck. Zayn resisted the urge to bare it.

‘What does it look like, Zayn?’ He whispered huskily against the shell of his ear. Zayn’s hips jerked into air when the hot pink tongue he had stared at earlier lapped lazily at it before pulling it into his mouth.

Zayn resisted, he really did, but his head became too heavy for his shoulders. It bounced pitifully onto the neck of the couch. Traitorous. His body shouldn’t weaken so easily just because a tongue is shoved against— _Motherfucker!_

Zayn clutched for the hand teasing its way up his zipper, his dick hardening with the promise. ‘Harry, we can’t—’

‘I don’t give a shit.’ He swore crawling into the seat of his lap his long legs cradling the sides of Zayn’s thighs. ‘I want to get you off Zayn, please. Let me do this.’

Zayn stared at his shining eyes, hips already rotating with the fingers still caught in Zayn’s grip massaging the side of his length and to hell with it. Harry licked over his chin, tasting the salt on the side of Zayn’s cheek, before nipping his way down the line of his throat. His hand fell away as he grabbed for the bumps of Harry’s hips.

Zayn cried out at the large bruises being sucked into the sweet spots beneath his earlobe while moaning softly at the works of Harry’s precise fingers; his own tightening and loosening in their place. He felt Harry rub his nose down the side of his neck before breaking into a groan of his own. He pulled back; green eyes blazing, lips pink and swollen tongue lapping at the corners of his mouth like Zayn’s skin was food from God.

And, shit, Zayn wanted to, he wanted to kiss him so bad that his teeth hurt with it. He swooped in for a taste, but the vampire grinned devilishly and denied him. Zayn grunted in frustration, bucking his hips and twisting his face. He wanted it damn it.

‘Lie still baby,’ Harry shushed pecking him all over his face, missing the puckered lips.

Harry sat back on his hunches again, pressing tender lips at his neck sweetly and unbuttoning Liam’s black dress shirt. Harry made sure everything was intimate, touching oversensitive areas with the weight of a butterfly wing; hips rolling a gentle but steady rhythm. He made sure his hands touched any newly revealed skin they could purchase; discovering the scar here the mole there, and the lines of his less obvious tattoos. Zayn writhed shamelessly as Harry discovered all of the naughty bits on his chest that made Zayn want to howl when Harry placed his mouth to it.

Harry pulled Zayn’s neck to him, pushing the shirt off the bumps of his shoulders. A sniff had him breaking that rhythm to rut hard against the fabric of Zayn’s thigh. He sucked another mark beneath the curve  of his chin, and then released his neck. Zayn felt like he was falling and flying at once. His submission to Harry’s pace pulling high down, but the pleasure rocketing him higher, so much higher, that he wanted. And he wanted it all.

Suddenly he felt his dick bounce from its compartment and a rough palm stroking over the head in the way that had his other spinning.

Harry pressed his mouth to Zayn’s ear ‘I dreamed about you last night Zayn.’ He said using one hand to massage the pecs of his chest, and bring in the other to his mouth. Zayn’s eyes sprung open, in to watch Harry, obscenely lap at the pad of his thumb before pressing his against the slit of his cock. ‘The shit you pulled……Fuck… you should have woken up ashamed of yourself.’ He informed, jerking Zayn’s dick at satisfying pace.

‘Look at me,’ Harry requested marveling at how gorgeous was, all damp haired, long lashes, open gasping breath. Zayn cracked open his amber orbs to peer up at his lover. ‘Is that good?’ he asked twisting into a squeeze on the upstroke and it was enough to make Zayn’s toes curl and eyes roll white.

‘ _FUCK_ yes!’ he groaned with a jerk of his hips. His arms splayed open and resting against the neck of the couch now.

‘You deserved to be wrecked fucking senseless, Zayn Malik.’

‘What did I do?’ he gasped.

‘Bad things. Magnificent things. Christ— I couldn’t wait to touch you.’

‘Oh fuck,’ Zayn muttered in patterns, Harry’s hand picking up speed. Now he had lost even the half of wits before from before at trying a play at Harry’s dark skinny jeans. He could feel his balls tightening, see the galaxy looming in before high speed time warp and he begged, ‘Kiss me Harry. I want – _fuck!_ Let me…. kiss me please.’

It was incoherent. A mixture of Harry’s, fucks, oh’s, and shits! But Harry had caught it. Harry removed his free hand to tangle it inside the roots of his hair; slowing his pace so that the arch in Zayn’s back could fall. ‘You want my kiss?’ he asked voice lower than causal, and he could’ve came from the sound. And fuck if that aint what he needed the most.

‘Don’t stop! Keep talking.’ He breathed before the hand pulled back on his hair. He cried out at the hard jerk harry gave his dick for punishment.

‘I asked you if you wanted my kiss.’ He repeated, gorgeous green eyes coaxing at his drooping ones.

‘Please.’ He stuttered with a shuddering breath. His hard on forgotten for now, as he stared down the slope of his nose into the mouth he wanted to ravish. The pink he wanted to tease and tangle with. Fuck he needed this too. ‘Hurry.’

Harry smiled small and toothless, ‘very well.’

Harry opens his mouth, long swiping over to wet his swollen lips, before his fangs sated to grow. Zayn moaned cautiously at the sight, but desperately as the hand stripping his dick stoke harder, until the pleasure was like a punch in the gut.

 _Harry_ he moaned out, willing to take what ever Harry gave with teeth, tongue or lips. it was a warning, because those stars were closing in. Harry worked his hand and stared at his neck before pulling curly head back and plunging his fangs into the tendons of his neck.

Then with the jolt of pain, and the shocking feel of the soothing sensation of the mouth teeth and tongue tugging the blood from his veins, Zayn was past the stars. They were above him, around him, inside him, flashing brightly behind the lids of his eye sockets. He felt his body quivering.

 _‘Zayn’_ A pretty voice calls in the distance.

And he swore, saying Harry’s name like a sin and a prayer. Chanting it like a mantra—

 _ZAyn!_ He heardbut it sounded as if his ears were clothed in bubble wrap. ‘Zayn, baby wake UP! You’re dreaming!’ she called clearer now and—

_Oh shit!_

His eyes flew open as he bolted upright, nearly giving Perrie a concussion. ‘Jesus Christ,’ she said dropping her purse as she jerked back and then kneeling to his level. ‘I’m not sure who was dying in that dream, but for the sake our real safety let’s not sleep on couches again. Agreed?’

Zayn nodded numbly, hair damp, with the same sheen of sweat that dampened the lot of his clothes. He felt the phantom tug of blood buzzing in the side of his neck and the heat are the distinguishable heat surrounding his crotch. _Oh my fucking God!_

‘Babe you look sickly, like old man sickly,’ she worried her lip, attempting to groom his hair from his face. He didn’t mean to jerk. ‘We should go to the hospital.’

‘No,’ he said grabbing her ring studded hand and kissing it. Hopefully it’ll convince her to drop, the fact that he had, a thundering heartbeat, snow as a skin tone, and was sweating fucking bullets. Not to mention a rock hard evening wood. Zayn hunched in on himself ‘No, it was just a bad dream, I get them a lot, and you know that. I’m fine P.’

She shook her head, nose ring glinting off the lamp light, ‘I know Zayn, but this one was different, I’m pretty sure you were actually convulsing.’

And he scoffed breathlessly, ‘bad dreams can’t hurt you Perrie.’ Sleeping badly could. Zayn rolled his neck to hear about 7 different cracks. Goody! He rubbed at the slick skin of his eyelids, still weak with the lights he thought he’d seen.

‘Well I warned about sleeping on these couches and bringing Tetsuo to nap as well. Tetsuo out, _out_ , _OUT!_ ’ the dogged stared at her as she had gone mad. Zayn got up to see her sweeping her arms at Tetsuo in a herding motion towards the threshold of the living room, wool hat dangling dangerously off her head as she tried to lure Tetsuo out.

Most likely all the dog understood was: Blah Tetsuo! Blah blah blah! Tetsuo, blah blah! Blah! **_tETSUO_** , BLAH!

Zayn didn’t feel right. He felt dirty, sick, and worthless. He could have literally have had a sex dream about _any_ one else. ‘I’m going for a shower.’ He warned when he noticed her back to him.

And since the heat hovering just below his navel decided to continue to run its course, he took the route through the kitchen (plucking a couple of grapes from the fridge to avoid Perrie’s speculation of why), then turned the hard right and bound up the staircase taking two at a time.

And yeah he was moving rather fast. That too could be suspicious. His feet padded over the wooden floor of the master bedroom. The yellow LED lights still on, heat blowing through the vents, and the bed unmade from when Perrie had gotten up. He sighed and turned into the bathroom after nearly stubbing his toe staring at the indent her head had left the pillow.

Zayn’s an excellent liar; so great he could fool himself with it. It’s almost a fact that he could get away with robbing a bank just by speaking in a disarming tone with an easy smile. He’s gotten out of deeper shit doing far less, so it made no sense as to why he didn’t just go to her. Why he closed the bathroom—locked it—instead of calling her up in to take a shower with him. Why instead of staring testing the water and staring at her toothbrush did he not just tell her he had a sex dream.

He could lie a nun’s skirt off so why not in this moment. Lying and saying it was about her.

And his head was spinning. This day for better words has been awful, treacherous on his heart, and a huge mind fuck for is brain. He didn’t need anymore confusion as to why these situations were happening to him or how to deal with them without losing him mentality and going on a killing rampage. He wanted to. But then he gasped. Under the warm spray shower head, between the smell of sex dream sweat and vanilla body wash, he had a moment of clarity.

He couldn’t do that to Perrie; use her because his fucked up subconscious decided to go of the rails. He couldn’t lie to her and tell her that her touch would do especially since his body obviously craved for another’s. He couldn’t pretend it’s what he wanted, but wouldn’t go looking for that kind of solace elsewhere.

So when his hand started pulling at the ridge of his dick, it didn’t surprise what had popped into his brain. Whose face it was and the images and sounds his body needed to hear. He wouldn’t cheat on Perrie, he couldn’t after all they’ve been through, he didn’t even attempt to fool himself into thinking it was her hand he imagined stroking his dick.

It was simply untrue, and a waste of his fucking time.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a BITCH to write, but a treat since i made you wait a week. Massive thank you to SweetNightingale09, outintheworld, and beautyindisguise for commenting your lovely thoughts. Hopefully i’ve made you supporters proud with this chapter. And thanks to others for reading and for giving me kudos it very sweet of you.
> 
> Hang in there with me people, the drama has just begun.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you wont be left hangin for long. this is just a bit about what's really happened between Thomas and Zayn.

Zayn didn’t know how he ended up in the living room. He should have been aware of the heat Pierre had turned of in sake to stop the shivering fit he had with the aftershock of that dream, and he should have felt the water that drizzle down his bare back from the wet heap of hair atop his head. He should have his mind set straight, because that’s one of the things he had partially hoped to achieve after the shower, but there he was frustrated, wound tight, dissatisfied, and confused.

He sat on the glass of the table; the bottom of his thighs sticking to the surface whenever he shifted them.

Pierre would kick his arse if she came downstairs and caught him, but he didn’t care, he just stared at the couch still indented with the impression of his body. For a moment there he actually debated whether he should set it on fire or not, because he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d ever be able to sit on it again, or let anyone sit on it. He couldn’t even look at it for 5 seconds without images clouding his head and causing the blood to rush to the one in his checkered boxers.

He didn’t know what to feel, how to he would feel if he could express it, or how to speak apparently. All he knew is that he didn’t want to be touched by anyone, not by Pierre, not by Tetsuo, and especially not by Harry. _So you are still able to lie._

Yeah, it was a lie; he craved touch, but just not from the others. His mind fliting to a moment after he’d left the washroom frustrated with his results. Pierre had moved to touch him tenderly and he jerked so hard away from her, she gave him a look akin to the one he wore when he stared at the cum he’d shot onto the tile of the shower wall. He’d half expected it to actually dissolve the hard granite as if it were volatile acid.

Truth was that after sitting in the same spot for 45 minutes, fingers linked and eyes narrowed, he started to place what he’d felt right then. It’s not surprising that it came out as disgust. Why have a sex dream about someone who tried to break your face on the first encounter, and then barely acknowledges you once everything is settled…..this is truly turning into a worse version of Twilight.

And he’s thinking about why having a sex dream about Harry Styles would be terrible for the light reasons, what about him being a vampire, being a vampire that might have had something to do with the night of the fire, or how bout the massive fact that Harry’s a fucking bloke.

As it were, it’s clear to Zayn that that fact might as well have been a rush of air; present but invisible. The sounds that dream harry made in his dream caused his fucking skin to burn, his fingers to twitch and his nails to drag against his tattoos. A shiver raked his spine when he placed a hand to the side of neck unintentionally and he stood on his feet as yanking his hand away as if he had been shocked.

How the fuck was he supposed to work in the same building as Harry when every time he spared a moment to shut his eyes they brought him pictures. Scenarios, as if they were being played on film, showing him Harry’s face wrecked with absolute ecstasy, Harry’s mouth drinking eagerly from the vein in his throat, hips grinding with the intensity. Yeah, he was fucked.

Tetsuo’s barks echo from the top of the stairs; sharp over the pitter patter of rain drops, and the telly Perrie had going inside the master bedroom. She spoke then, voice reverberating through the halls ‘Tetsuo, I swear to God you’ll be sleeping with the strays underneath your owner’s beloved GMC. Shut it!’

Though the Blahs were still present, Tetsuo was smart enough to know what a threat sounded like, especially when it followed his name. He cut off with a whine; trotting his large body down the stairs towards Zayn instead. The aforementioned was already heading up them, automatically aware of what the dog had been warning him about.

He turned into the room of his study and headed toward the chimes rousing the screen of his office computer; sliding clumsily into the cushion of his office chair. It was a Skype call reading _Mary Ann Patts_. Shit, he should have been prepared for this.

He pressed a shaky finger into the mouse; accepting the call with minor hesitation and then suddenly the screen filled with colour. He could see the white of the opal wall behind her, the picture to her left she took on an expedition to Nepal, and then the numerous strands of atop the crown of her head. She was leaning in too close to the webcam. The smile that pulled at his lips was instantaneous.

Zayn had no choice but to focus on the graying bands of hair lightening the tresses to a silvery black mix. He felt Tetsuo bump against the side of his chair at the sound of her muffled voice.

‘I don’t think I’ve done that quite right…’ she mumbled; the sounds of clicking and clashing interrupting the otherwise quiet hum of the computer motors. Another small tap came before her computer gave a warning chime. She froze. ‘Well that was really stupid. A bloody seagull could work this thing better than—’

‘Mary Ann?’

She jerked back, face suddenly visible. Then a brilliant smile stretched the length of her nude shaded lips. ‘Oh! I’ve got picture! And you answered!’ she enthused clapping her hands together triumphantly and causing the shoulder length hair to catch over the dainty slope of her nose momentarily.

‘You called.’ He answered immediately.

She scoffed with a roll of her brown eyes, ‘Like I could ignore you, especially on the eve of my birthday. What do you take me for?’

How did that happen? Had he really let himself get so out of whack that he’d actually forgotten to call off and drive out to Primrose Hill for the weekend? Since when did he not buy her something exceptional before the date even came? And its not like he works for Liam anymore, Thomas would never let him take time off from doing his important job in order to so something else important likes spend time with his adopted family. No Thomas would probably make fun of her again and probably get knocked the fuck out this time.

_This is partially Harry’s fault too._

Stupid vampire. He sighed dejectedly through his nose before dropping his head.

‘Oh no,’ he heard her coo. ‘Let me guess you can’t make it this time?’

‘I’m sorry Mary Ann. I have a new boss as of today. The old one was my friend…. he didn’t care if I took a leave to see you. I’m sorry.’ He apologized shaking his head pitifully.

‘Okay, someone’s been turning you into a large sap of emotions.’ She said, tone inquiring that she wore a suspicious smirk. He chanced a look at the screen and confirmed his theory. Only her face was soft, eyes understanding, and mouth curved delicately into a non menacing smile.

‘Zayn, I don’t know what you job requires of you, because you still haven’t told me what it is that you do. But it’s only a single birthday Zayn. I’m not even 50 yet, so there’s no need to stress yourself by trying to be two places at once, especially when there’s something more important for you to be doing. I’ll be here when you have time to visit, yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ he recited with a grateful nod.

‘Besides this computer screen is enough. Now where’s my other boy at? Have you let Pierre finally kill him?’

And his chuckle was accidental, Zayn’s not even sure if Mary Ann had ever really taken a liking to Pierre truthfully, only choosing to accept anyone Zayn claimed he loved. She was that type of person. Her focus was now on the dog whose tail was thumping constantly at the spine of his office chair. Tetsuo had enough respect not to full on hop his front paws onto Zayn’s table desk (much taller than him), deciding instead just to rest the scruff of his chin onto the edge of it; maroon eyes visible below the upward angle of his snout.

The dog wined on queue, shuffling insistently next to Zayn. He was surprised Tetsuo had not decided his lap would do. ‘There he is!’ Mary Ann cooed in that baby voice she always had for the lug. A sharp bark broke the silence as Tetsuo successfully stuck his front paws into Zayn’s thighs in order to present himself to her.

‘Oh! You’ve had another growing bout, then? I wish I were there, but we’re all so damn busy all the time. You and this mystery job.’ she said gazing almost desirably at Zayn’s hand scratching at the base of Tetsuo’s skull.

And she was always so understanding, so non evasive even when she wanted to be. She never pried in the places an actual mother would dig deeply into until they got answers they craved, so when she asked he didn’t lie to her completely.

‘What is it you do Zayn because that house you live in is too stunning to come from a normal paying job?’

‘I work part time as an English teacher’—lie— ‘and I also coach people in extracurricular activities.’—truth—‘You know Perrie’s a nanny and a part time nurse’—truth— ‘so we band together and pay for it. It’s easier when both the spouses are working right?’—and lie.

The V.E.C. pays for everything; you know its best that way since Zayn risks his life to keep others safe, every time he walked into that building. Though by now he did have enough money to buy 12 20-acre castles fully supplied with maids, gardeners, cooks, and the lot of everything he wanted. He could buy the damn Pope if he wanted, because the corporation supplied anything to keep the agents happy and their mouth’s shut.

Anything.    

‘Damn,’ she said in a way that had Zayn turning frown to the screen. ‘I was hoping you’d said you were something like a prostitute or an escort. I was completely prepared to give you an ear full of something fierce.’

There was that surprised genuine laugh again. ‘Of, course you were.’

‘I’m serious!’ she insisted. ‘Even though there’s nothing wrong with having sex to get paid, I wouldn’t like the though of my baby doing it, when he could just come home to live with me. I would have took the piss out of it so much that my age lines would have began to tell the truth about the age I’ve fabricated for myself.’ She declared rubbing across the frown marks on her forehead.

‘You look beautiful.’ He tried honestly receiving a grimace followed by a fanned hand.

‘You’re sugarcoating, but I’ll have you know, I don’t need confirmation from a handsome looker like yourself to know that I could stop traffic in Tokyo.’

Oh boy

‘But you—you look like shit.’ And he laughed again, but she was dead serious. He knew she was because he knew her observation was more than true. ‘You look twice your age, you’re hair’s matted (a first) and you’re paler than you should be. You’re even starting to look anorexic from what I can see by you generously forgetting to fetch a shirt to pull on. Have you come down with something? Is that it? Or is there trouble in paradise?’

Something like that. He watched as Tetsuo rushed off his lap and trotted off after something that caught his attention in the hallway.

‘You don’t have to say anything.’ She cut in before he could form a sentence, and he lifted his eyes towards the screen once more. ‘I’m not going to say that it’s none of my business, because when it involves you it sure as hell is, but I’m not going to force you to speak. Do so when you’re ready.’

He nodded at her, smiling as she scratched at the spot above her eye where her mole would have been before she had gotten it removed.

‘You look like you’re going to pass out any second now, so I’m going to leave you to rest. You better go to sleep Zayn, or I swear I’ll drive out there myself to baby you.’ She warned as if she’d know if he didn’t ‘Give Perrie my best, and kiss Tetsuo for me.’

‘I will Mary Ann, I promise.’

‘And Zayn,’ she called softly. ‘I’m here for you. The phone works two ways, love. Don’t hesitate to call even when you feel you should. I’ll always answer, and I won’t judge you. I love you sweetheart.’

His eyes burned, lips trembled, and his throat tightened. ‘I love you too, Mary Ann.’ And he did. She had no idea how much she meant to him. She’ll never be able to fully understand, no matter how much she thinks’ she does.

‘Sweet dreams, Bumpa.’ She wished and then the call ended with a beep.

He was emotional, overtly emotional.

At that moment he could have broken into sobs at her regular use of the nickname she gave him; after all of her proclamations of worry and care for him. He was certain the only thing keeping him from throwing on sweatpants and a jacket and driving to the safety of his spare bedroom at Mary Ann’s were his hands gripping the arm rest of his chair. But he couldn’t just ‘do what Zayn wants’.

He couldn’t loose his job.

‘Fuck my life.’ He cursed before standing and turning off the monitor. His life was going to be hell from now on.

*****

Zayn considered taking a sick day, hoping that whatever was happening to him would go away after a break. The entire night, he slept in lapses. They lasted for the better part of 10 minutes before he’d wake up next to his sleeping fiancé certain that the mouth swallowing around his dick was real, or that the tongue flicking across the tattoos on his chest left a burning trail of saliva. Certain that the smells of honeysuckle and morning dew underneath his nose remained as a reminder.  

It was fitful. Even though he knew he was dreaming he fought to claim the vampire’s sinful lips, but they closed around anything else. The bumps of his hips, the dips in his ribcage, the fucking bud of his nipples, never the lips. He kept awaking collateral to orgasm at the bites the vampire supplied in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He needed a distraction.

How the fuck was he supposed to face Harry when he couldn’t close his eyes without picturing the curls of his head bobbing in time with his mouth….. It’s not like he actually had to face him, or look at him for that matter, or that Harry would do the same anyway….so why fret.

As soon as the elevator opened to Liam’s floor he moved, making his way towards his own office that he shared with Erik when they weren’t doing field work (and he wasn’t training rookies). Since Zayn was too much of a big shot to work in an open cubicle they supplied it to him. It was somewhere he never really went before because he had a shit ton of field work to do outside the offices, but now it was somewhere to relax as of this moment; clear his head before having to check in with Thomas.

When he turned a route down an aisle of cubicles he spotted the quiff of a blonde haired Irishman, ‘Niall?’

The scientist turned at the sound of his name, and smiled joyously. ‘Ah! There you are.’

What the fuck was he doing up here? ‘What are you doing?’ he asked the boy who met him halfway through the aisle.

‘Cant a fella just visit his friend without it being conspicuous?’ he asked before deadpanning at Zayn’s narrowed eyes. ‘Alright fine, but I’d rather talk about it in private.’ Ha said ushering Zayn towards the door of his office.

It was already occupied by his partner who sat on his side of the office with his legs propped and crossed over his desk. He fiddled with his phone before raising his blue eyes towards the intrusion to his quiet atmosphere. ‘Zaynie! Long time no see partner.’

‘Piss off, Erik’ he answered lightly at the pet name.

‘Hey, um, what’s with the lab coat?’ he asked referring to the tagalong scientist Zayn had brought into a field agents office. It was out of the ordinary to see a scientist up here at all.

Niall, who was peeking out the door every once and a while, turned to face the two field agents. ‘Right, so, hey cherub face, you doing anything important.’

Erik didn’t even blink at the insult, instead moving his thumbs along the screen of his phone. Zayn could hear an Angry Bird battle cry before it launched and collided with something. Angry Birds? Really Erik, really?

‘If you mean trying to crush the bacon out of these pigs then yeah?’

‘Out.’ Niall ordered jabbing thumb over his shoulder. ‘Zayn and I have private business to discuss.’

Erik rolled his eyes and stood, tucking his phone into his pocket. ‘I can’t believe you’d let him kick me out of our office Zayn. We’re partners.’ He whined, but Niall had actually crossed the room and took the baby blonde haired man by his arm.

‘Cry about it later, this’ll take no more than five minutes.’ He said, pushing him through the threshold. ‘Close the door, will you? Thanks.’

He didn’t spare a second for Zayn to speak when the door clicked in place, ‘here.’ He said pushing a hand into his lab coat pocket and pulling out a large orange pill bottle.

Zayn stared at the full bottle of drugs that was forced into his hand, ‘what’s this?’

‘Methamphetamines. What do you think it is?’ he said exasperatedly while gesturing towards the bottle ‘It’s what you asked for.’

Zayn looked around wildly at the office door. Was he trying to get him fired? ‘I didn’t ask for meth Niall.’ He said trying to shove the pills back into Niall’s hands.

‘That was sarcasm Zayn.’ Niall assured, ‘these aren’t speed or any illicit drugs you think I could just whip up without getting fired. These are a form a dopamine….enhancers…. they’ll help you remember.’

Zayn’s eyes widened. Ohhhh! That’s what this was about. Suddenly the memory of it came back to Zayn, he going to Niall a while back and expressing that he’d lost the majority of his memory from the night of the fire. Since he didn’t believe in the hypnosis shits, he went to a valid source to help him remember; a scientist that used technology made from NASA.

He opened twisted the cap off and spilled a portion into the palm of his hand. ‘These look like peppermint Altoids.’

‘Cant have them actually looking like pills right? Just pop one twice a day.’ Niall said with a shrug, ‘In fact do one right now. See how it goes for you.’

Zayn froze for a second looking to office door again before submitting to the nudge Niall gave to his hesitation. He plucked one of the round pasty white pills up a—wait. ‘What’s the side affects.’

Niall chuckled merrily, ‘and here I thought you weren’t going to say anything. There isn’t anything like risk of coma, bile movements, or potential death if that’s what you’re getting at. But, I’ll point out again. They are a form of dopamine. Dopamines are sort of a form of release. In this case I’ve designed the drug to try to release your concealed memory, but it may also release some other things like emotions, sudden strong emotions, since that what dopamines are for….that’s it.’

_Do you really need more emotions?_

‘You’re not afraid of emotions, are ya Zayn?’ Niall asked in a haughty tone. And those swirling corneas played across Zayn’s memory as fresh as they were the night of the fire. He rolled the pill between hi thumb and index finger.

No, but he was cross about what he might find. ‘Spare me the benefit of doubt especially since we’re colleagues. Tell me honestly, have you ever heard of a vampire being able to suppress memory?’

‘No,’ the scientist said without a beat. ‘But, because there’s always a but. But, we don’t know everything. I’m young; I didn’t know vampires existed until I witnessed my aunt’s neck being torn from her spine.’

He said it so freely, so quickly, but it still made Zayn flinch. It was suddenly easy to remember the night Liam saved him and the sound of that girl’s skin tearing when that vampire fed from her. The vampire he never saw again.

‘Even the eldest scientists and hunters know little about vampires. Harry’s a prime example. He can do things that he shouldn’t be able to….things that other vampires cannot….so it’s perfectly plausible for something like compulsion even time travel to exist with their power variety.’

Yeah, because it’s easier to say that a vampire set Zayn’s family on fire and spared him, than Zayn just falling and bumping his head while sleepwalking, after setting his own folks on fire. Which scenario is saner?

With sigh he plopped the pill onto his tongue and immediately frowned up. His taste buds exploded with the overwhelming flavour of chalky bitterness. Zayn dropped the handful of pills back into the orange bottle before twisting the cap back on, ‘these are fucking horrendous, thank you Nialler. I owe you man.’

‘Well, you didn’t actually think they’d taste like peppermint Altoids did you?’

Ugh. ‘Would you shut up and accept my gratitude, or I’ll never show it to you again.’

His friend’s cackle of delight filled the closed office space, ‘You’re very welcome Zayn. And you don’t owe me anything. Or at least don’t try to count it up, because after all we’ve been through together, what with me constantly saving your skinny ass along with Liam’s, both of you would literally owe me the frecking sun from the sky.’

Annnnd there’s the truth.

The office door swung open before Erik strode in looking slightly apologetic, ‘Sorry to interrupt your heart to heart.’ He said moving towards his desk hurriedly and pulling his jacket from around the shoulder of the chair ‘I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I find my stun gun…’ he trialed off as he rummaged the cabinets.

Amateur. Who leaves their weapons in a desk?

Zayn followed his movements with far more scrutiny than was needed. Why did he need his stun? ‘Where are you going?’

Erik raised the triangle of his brow and then let his eyes follow. ‘Liam and his help found some sort of lead on someone who might know who that vampire king is. Liam asked me if I would like to come along on the hunt…I said yes. Oh—bingo!’ he exclaimed pulling the device out of its hiding space.

Silence….

There was a moment where Niall shuffled uneasily, Erik stood straight slowly while shoving his gun into its holder, and zayn just stared like he hadn’t heard right.

Liam invited….. _Erik_?

‘What’s the matter Zayn, you gonna miss me?’

Oh. Of course Erik would try to take the piss out of his misery. Zayn would do the same to him.

But Erik was moving once more until he stood an arms length away from Zayn. ‘Look, we both found about this case together. If it makes you feel better I’ll decline…I could stay and do a case with you if you want…’

The hell? Since when did he receive such obvious pity? ‘No, you don’t need to do anything for my sake, just go do your job.’

Erik’s face suddenly crumbled and he should have seen it coming. Zayn immediately batted at the hands pinching at his cheeks. ‘Aye aye, Zayner.’

‘Just get the fuck out of here before I find something to chuck at you.’ He warned shoving his partner away. ‘And you too.’

‘I take orders from no one,’ Niall declared when Zayn turned his gaze unto him. ‘Especially, not from a feisty field agent who threatens to throw things at me.’

‘Yeah, well.’ Zayn retorted watching Erik turn out the door and make his way towards Liam’s office where Harry most likely was…. ‘It’s best you listen to this one. I’m sure you have better things to do than to watch me try to remember.’

‘Yeah, you’re right.’ Niall agreed with a quirk of his brow. Dick. ‘So what you have to do is keep up the pill popping routine until you get what you want. Take that other one now while you remember. If nothing happens for this batch I’ll just whip up a better one.’

Niall turned and started for the door and—

Wait, what? ‘Are saying that you haven’t tested this? I’m not a guinea pig Niall!’ But he was already half way down the aisle.

Though Niall did find time to call over his shoulder, ‘Suuurre.’

Zayn closed the wooden office door with a half aborted huff of laugher. He wasn’t too worried to begin with, but it helped that he was getting results already. Niall said he would feel emotions, and it was happening; what with how he no longer felt overtly wound up. He felt looser, easy going. And it was a mood—emotion—he hasn’t felt in years; something he could only partially achieve with a shit ton of strong cigarettes.

He pulled out the orange bottle from his back pocket, where he had conveniently hidden it during the intrusion, and examined the blank labels. ‘ _Maybe I should take these for fun’_ He thought as he popped another pill after bracing himself for the taste.

Zayn was just getting in good groove, just about to joke with himself about burning incense, buying a Persian rug, and turning on some soft Zen music when his trousers vibrated. He plucked his phone from his the dip of his pocket and damn. There went his settled mood.

_Hey, why don’t you come up and have a chat with your new boss? Call it a brunch date. I’d like to have a word with you._

_-Tom_

Zayn couldn’t ignore him because that’s exactly what he wanted to do. But that’s exactly what could get him fired…

Fucking great.

 

****

 

As soon as Zayn entered the open office door he was greeted. ‘For moment there, I was sure you weren’t going to come.’ Thomas admitted around a ham sandwich.

And he seriously considered doing just that; walking as slowly as he could through the office aisles and actually taking the stairs instead of the elevator. He wagered if taking an exploratory stroll through the tunnels beforehand would’ve been going too far.

Though the punishment probably would have been worth spending any mount of time away from Thomas Pfaff. His boss sat behind the rectangle of the light brown hunk of his wooden desk littered with a little bit of everything. ‘Didn’t really have a choice did I?’

The answering hum was one of acknowledgement, ‘I was also sure you’d ignore me in that lovely way of yours, you know, by looking off in the distance and showcasing your irritating ability to stubbornly refuse vocal response.’ He said placing his half eaten slice onto a napkin as he peered over at his laptop.

‘Now why would I do that?’ he asked airily as he scoped out the medium space of the office. It was now considerably littered crates of case files Thomas had most likely had been rewarded when he became the new executive Head of Office since he had joined the V.E.C. not even 48 hours ago.

‘Why so you do it so much then?’ he shot back it caused Zayn to scoff lightly.

The skinny boy shoved his hands into the caverns of his pockets, ‘I’m not a very talkative person.’ But you knew that.

‘You’re not very friendly either,’ Thomas muttered before sighing and turning his gaze unto Zayn finally; eyes heavy with emotion. He gestured lithely t the chair in front of his desk, ‘sit please. There’s no need to make yourself uncomfortable.’

Zayn stared at him like he was stupid.

‘Have it your way then.’

Zayn shifted on his foot and let his eyes dance away from Thomas to anywhere else, ‘D’you mind telling me what this is about?’

‘What do you think it’s about?’ Thomas countered, and there was that evasiveness.

‘Is it anything work related? Do you have a new case for me or something?’ because I’m dying of boredom.

‘No,’ Thomas shrugged. ‘I wanted to do a little catch up with an old friend over brunch though you seem to have forgotten to bring something to munch on. Would you like me to call Olia in to fetch you something?’

Why the fuck would he want a friendly chat up with Thomas? The last time he had truly spent time with Thomas, he had planned to do more than just break his jaw. ‘So I don’t have to be here?’

‘I have your personal information here,’ Thomas stated sifting through a manila file. ‘Perrie Edwards is listed under your immediate contacts. Who is she?’

‘She’s my fiancée.’ Zayn gritted. ‘Can I go now?’

‘There are no shackles around your ankles Zayn,’ the answering voice assured ‘I can’t keep you against your will, but it wouldn’t be wise to leave.’

Fuck that.

‘Yeah, so,’ Zayn jerked a thumb over his shoulder as he began to sidle backwards. ‘I’m just gonna go. If you need me you can reach me via Olia or text since you’ve welcomed yourself to my privacy.’

‘You know, I find it extremely charming that you’ve gotten yourself engaged to a pretty blue-eyed blondie.’ And that was a trap Zayn fell into easily. He froze because, of course, now Thomas had successfully gotten what he wanted: Zayn’s attention. ‘Does she know of your bi-curiosity?’

Zayn turned his face, quickly morphing into a scowl towards his boss ‘Excuse me?’

Thomas was standing now, staring at Zayn with stony eyes as he dropped the file on top of one of the crates set atop his desk. ‘I asked if she knew you liked men.’

That’s not true—sometimes…what the fuck does this matter. He had eyes, when they found something attractive, they sought it out. He could look at whomever he wanted; he just would never pursue them. ‘I’m not bi.’

Thomas tsked gaining some of his cockiness back, ‘shoving your tongue down your only male playmates throat while playing inside your shabby tree house is pretty bisexual Zayn. I’m not judging you or anything.’

 _Yes you are._ Zayn stormed over to the desk where Thomas had comfortably rested his hip on the side, ‘Fucking Christ, I never asked you to kiss me Thomas.’

Thomas, who had straightened at Zayn’s challenging demeanor, smirked, ‘You never told me to stop.’

‘So what, that’s permission for you to keep going?’ Zayn criticized, ‘that didn’t mean I wanted to…I was just miserable because for the thousandth time you had decided to show your ass and pick with me to milk your popularity and then climb back up my treehouse and beg keep our friendship a secret. God, I was a stupid kid.’ He spat clenching his fist.

Then it was quiet aside from the thrum of his pounding heart accompanied by the loud breaths he puffed out. there was also the light commotion of the agents busy at work around them. Thomas just stood there close enough to touch, but far enough to dodge collateral damage. Maybe he underestimated his contro,l because it took almost every ounce of bone marrow he had to not do _something_ to wipe the smug look from Thomas’s face.

‘Was that your first kiss?’ he whispered softly and Zayn couldn’t help but snap at him

‘I was nine, what the fuck do you think?’

‘If it helps, that was mine too.’ Thomas murmured a little closer than before and zayn wanted to do so much in that one second….maybe those drugs were a bad idea after all.

‘I really don’t care Thomas.’ Zayn sighed yearning to get out of there. ‘I told you I only participated because I was hurt and desperate. You took advantage of me.’

‘No.’ Thomas detested lowly as he moved in front of Zayn; eyes black with determination. ‘You can put that one particular situation off on that reason alone, but the times afterwards weren’t initiated by me.’ he reminded gripping Zayn by his hips and pulling him in until they were knee and knee.

Then suddenly he was back in his tree house, emotions a cloud of anxiety and fear. He could taste the cherry Jolly Rancher on the palate of his tongue. Smell the dirt on the floor and feel the wooden foldout table poking splinters into the back of his thighs as the edge of it dug into them with the force of Thomas’s mouth.

In the present Thomas dragged a hand up his side and traced the line of his jaw with gentle fingers. Just like he used to, ‘Your lips always met mine in the middle. Admit it Zayn you wanted me.’ he pushed; eyes shining. ‘You wanted me then and you want me now.’

Somehow Zayn had broken this spell of sorts Thomas had over him, he overcame that weakness, so he knew he could do it now; no matter how much his knees wanted to weaken, his eyes wanted to close and his lips wanted to fasten with the promise of having Thomas Pfaff to himself finally. someone he’d craved and cried over for years as a kid.

But this wasn’t real, it never was. It was always just a game of catch and release with Thomas.

Zayn yanked his face away and avoided the lips aiming for the curve of his own. ‘Get the fuck off of me.’ he growled, shoving his boss firmly in his clavicle with force that caused him to stumble back a little himself.

Thomas looked as stunned s he did the day that he had left the school building in an ambulance ‘I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but if you try it again your entire face will need to be reconstructed.’

And he meant it, with the amount of adrenaline pumping through his body at that moment, Zayn was seriously surprised that he hadn’t tried to mangled Thomas’s face with his teeth by biting him. Like legitimately biting him. Where that came from, he’d have to ask Niall.

‘Were done here.’ Zayn finalized after catching his breath and successfully staring Thomas down, ‘get this through your head Thomas. I don’t want you, I don’t your want your attention, I don’t even want to be a light-year near you.’

‘I wished to God you never took this job, because we were never friends and I don’t think you should plan on that miracle ever happening. Also get that you won’t be seeing me up here in this office unless you have some actual fucking business for me to take care of. Other than that lose my fucking number.’ He hissed before turning with a slide of his feet and striding away.

Zayn grabbed the iron doorknob on his way and slammed the door so hard that, with the way that it rattled, he was surprised the glass didn’t shatter to pieces.  

*****

Zayn took the long ride down in the cabin of the elevator huddled in the far right corner. He ignored the stops anxious to make it to the 1st floor so he could take a sick leave. He also ignored people that came and left along with the copious amount of smells that lingered without them. Everything felt a little more stretched than usual, noises louder, smells stronger, time longer.

He rubbed at the center of his forehead sure that the headache Thomas had victoriously given him was a painful reminder of what he’d have to deal with for now on. In fact he was so caught up in cursing himself, Thomas, and whichever citizen that came in and left leaving the smell of cheap cologne you’d sprits on in a bar toiletry or something, that he hadn’t even checked his surroundings.

He had let everything slip past him until he singled out a particular aftershave Liam Payne bought monthly because he used it so damn much, and then…Honeysuckle and morning dew. His mouth watered and his stomach twisted. Suddenly the side of his neck itched and he hadn’t the will to deny himself.

Zayn lifted the hand covering the light from his eyes and turned his blurry gaze towards his left. Through the line of bodies lightly crowding the cabin Zayn could see Liam peering over at him, but the piercing green eyes staring over his friend’s bulky shoulder is what made Zayn loose his breath to point where he wasn’t sure if he’d ever find it again.

_Harry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou readers for giving this story a chance,and enjoying for your own reasons. the kudos are cool and also thanyou to Zarry hand hold (Jeri_1116), outintheworld, and SweetNightingale09 for commenting your thoughts. I shall have the next chapter uploaded by Wednesday because I owe my supporters that much. You’ll get more info on what’s already happen and what’s going to happen in the future of course, because I know this is probably confusing for people to follow, but it’ll all make sense when the journey ends in the next 7 chapters or so. Thank you to everyone in general!!! The mysteries will be over before you know it.xxx  
> –S


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (wait for it, wait for it!!!)
> 
> ....Zarry.
> 
> *drops the mic and walks off*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my supporters :)))

There’s always a moment where someone loses something and this someone doesn’t always _have_ to be human. People lose things all the time from the eventful NASCAR races, to keys that unlock things, to singing competitions, money, bets, shoes, pets, limbs, houses, cars, crayons, relationships, and the occasional loss of loved to one to the beckoning of death’s arms.

Animals have a hard knock life of loss as well, what with having to protect their young from the predators that prey on them for food. Eat or be eaten…the circle of life and all.

Anyone could guess that every time a female cheetah chases down a baby gazelle, it’s a mother’s offspring the mother cheetah would be feeding _her_ young to keep them alive. Its tough shit, because even the top predators like cheetahs and lions lose battles when either of them venture into a den filled with defenseless cubs.

Yeah, so it doesn’t matter who you are, or what you think you can do about it. You will lose something in some point of time….Zayn Malik knew that much was true. He thought about loss on a daily basis, in fact right now he was so lost in the prowling green eyes assaulting his own that he was on the verge of praying for guiding light.

Losing was essentially becoming a thing for him seeing as he had already lost his breath, he was losing the battle with the part of brain that begged his eyes to turn away, and he was .3 seconds from completely losing his shit if Harry kept up with slow blinking and assessment he was donning Zayn. The tan boy swore inwardly when he had unsurprisingly had begun to lose control over the steadiness in his hands. The tips of his ears began to heat.

 _Fuck_.

Like clockwork Zayn felt his core temperature spike as warmth coiled in the twist that was already his belly, even his knees had the nerve to try to buckle, and was this really happening because the vampire had finally decided to cast him a curious glance? Or was it because after a night of having explicit reveries about Harry making him loose his mind and spit the filthiest words through his teeth at the sensations the vampire showered him with, that he was within a few steps from him. Even now he could hear the words Harry pressed against his ears; promising to have Zayn pliant, desperate, and begging for release from his tongue, mouth, fingers and—

Liam stepped into his line of vision unknowingly sheathing the daggers of Harry’s stare. He slowly moved to push through the bodies inside the cabin, obviously convinced Zayn was about to have another one of his episodes.

Zayn tore his eyes away as soon as he lost sight of Harry. He huffed at the sound of his own thundering heartbeat in the hollow of his ears and then turned back just in time to shoot Liam a look.

_Now is not a good time to be near me._

It stopped Liam dead in his tracks just as the cabin slowed to a stop itself. As the passengers began to bushel about, Zayn shook his head at the brow lift Liam silently shot back. _Just stay over there._

When Liam visibly balked, Zayn turned and recovered the lids of his eyes. He sucked in large breaths of the air now a mixture of sweet pea perfume and coffee crème cakes. He had calmed his heart enough to be able to hear the soft flute drifting through the speakers of the elevators, and it was almost quiet enough for him to place the actual blood running through his veins.

He could do this, Zayn knew he could if he could just regain the control of his loud breathing and jerky movements and it was no use….

Zayn knew he was no longer in that corner alone when a wave of immense body heat floated over the front of his body. His mouth watered at the sweet smell dancing just beneath his nostrils.

‘Are you alright?’ A deep voice questioned, and suddenly his heart was at it again.

Zayn sighed, cursing at his hand that longed to reach out and grab the lapel of the jacket he saw Harry wearing. He uncovered the shading of his eyes again looking everywhere else at first and noticing the cabin had emptied aside from Liam, himself, and Harry. Zayn looked to the floors slowly ticking down from 98, to the spotted concrete breath his shoes, to Liam looking a bit cross in their direction, then finally to the sleeves of Harry’s suit jacket hugging the modest bicep muscles they covered.

The dark navy blue colour contrasted greatly against the lightly tanned skin of his throat. Zayn let his eyes drift to the dark dress shoes that covered Harry’s feet, then to the tailored trousers fitting loosely and tightly around the expanse of his legs at once. How the fuck was that fair?

Finally Zayn looked towards the crown of Harry’s head. It was almost impossible to deny himself the urge to sweep his fingers through the light curls framing the hard and soft angles of Harry’s face. Zayn took in the rise of Harry’s nose, the dip of his chin, the dent in his brows, then finally the curve of his lips…bad idea.

Harry’s frown intensified as he looked Zayn over. It was like every spot the green eyes landed Zayn’s skin damn near burned. ‘Hey,’ he calls waving a hand in front of Zayn’s face, ‘are you okay.’

Zayn didn’t know what it was…maybe it was the dreams, maybe it was because he thought he’d lost his ability to speak, or maybe it was the fact that the vampire looked like something straight out of a millionaire’s photo shoot. Whatever it was, it pissed him off to the point that he could practically taste the sour look evading the contours of his facial expression.

Zayn leveled Harry with a testy look. ‘The fuck does it matter to you?’ he spat nastily.

It had no effect, the vampire even lost the frown; his eyebrow bouncing up to shape the earnest look he was giving Zayn. ‘You look rather sick. Are you feeling well?’

Lack of reaction…naturally that pissed him off more. ‘How is this any of your business?’

His face changed once more, warmer than before; eyes twinkling with what looked like amusement. He lifted his shoulders secondly before supplying a short shake of his head. ‘It isn’t really.’

‘Then keep your nose the fuck out of it.’ Zayn admonished, turning away and sliding two fingers up the line of cartilage on his nose. When no response came part of him was stupid enough to think that Harry had just left it. But he could feel the heat pouring off the vampire in ripples and waves; not to mention the way his breath continued to shutter.

Harry hadn’t moved an inch and he didn’t have to look to know that he was still being studied. He sighed when he felt the elevator slow to a stop. He didn’t even care what floor it was.

As soon the soft ding sounded Zayn pushed past Harry just narrowly avoiding the line of his shoulder in order to get to the sliding metallic doors. He pushed—rather rudely— through the group entering the cabin, ignoring theirs yelps of confusion and offense; so long as Zayn would be out of there before he did something completely idiotic.

Zayn half walked/ran along the line of walls until he found what he was looking. The door that read: Stairs.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

His thigh muscles were burning, chest heaving, heart thundering, but he didn’t care. Zayn tried. He tried to tell himself that he’d imagined the moment when he’d stepped in Harry’s space and the vampire gravitated towards him. Or the fact that Zayn knows he didn’t imagine the way Harry’s eyes drifted towards his mouth every other second….

It was fucking absurd…but it wasn’t a complete fantasy. It’s probably why he was running. He had no idea why he was still doing so, as if the building was crumbing down upon him, but he went on; the patter of his footfalls echoing and the signs reading the floor numbers a blur of black and white. It was only when it felt like his heart was trying to permanently bruise the cage of his ribs, did he slow to a stop on a platform.

There were white spots dancing across his vision as he felt along the cool concrete walls of the stairwell; eternally grateful for the relief it gave his fluctuating core temp. Zayn pushed through fatigue until he was seated securely on a smooth stair below him, almost sliding down to a slump with the amount of exertion he put into fleeing. Zayn pressed his forehead against the concrete wall letting the smell of metal and dirty mop water flood the vicinity of his nose, trying in vain to gain control of his body. Now he was really beginning to think those pills were a bad idea.

It would be totally unhelpful to elate himself with the thought of what he would have done to Harry had they been alone…it’s not that he wasn’t miserable and irritated as of that moment, it’s just that he was aroused that much more. The thought of Harry pushing him away or even shoving him up against the spurious wood of the elevator wall making the steel railing digging into the small of his back shouldn’t make his blood rush so fiercely. It all did…

He should really—

‘You should really get that checked out,’ came the advice and—

He really shouldn’t have jumped so badly. _Fucking hell!_

‘The way you easily go from calm to frantic is rather alarming.’

Zayn angled his head left towards the flight of stairs above him. Through the spaces of the steel bars lining the railing Zayn spotted light green socks underneath the flaps of pressed trousers, ‘the next time you do that I won’t hesitate to shoot you.’

There was a shuffle and then a small chuckle, ‘that’s your trademark innit? I heard you like to hurt things…particularly things that look like me. It’ll probably enliven you immensely if I just slit my own throat.’

Heh fucking doubt it. Zayn didn’t want to picture Harry with a severed neck every time he came after a wank session.

‘What do you want?’ Zayn pushed through a sigh because he shouldn’t be counting on this encounter turning out like his dream, he knew it wasn’t one from the way he hadn’t woken up from the pinching he supplied to his under thigh.

A beat, ‘well as a tourist to this part of a secret headquarter, it’s always been a dream to wrinkle my pants on the dirty stairs of the stairwell.’ Harry demeaned in a robust manor, as if to say he already knew the answer.

Zayn was too busy focusing on counting his heartbeat, looking anywhere else and convincing his legs to stay strung out beneath him. It didn’t matter how much he yearned to climb Harry’s thighs like a jungle gym and use his smart mouth as a pleasure slave.

‘Let me guess Liam sent you?’ because why not have a little optimism.

‘No,’ Harry said. Zayn heard what sounded like the vampire sliding his shoe across the surface of the stair beneath it. ‘Liam actually deterred my coming here. Besides, I don’t take orders from him.’

Right. Zayn could feel something coiling inside the pit of his stomach…anger? ‘Because you could just the job you started if he pisses you off.’

‘No. Because I don’t work for the V.E.C. and I know what you’re referring to.’ Harry chided. Out of the corner of his eye Zayn saw Harry push to his feet and lean causally against the cool material of the wall. ‘Do you really think he would be so sanguine around someone who’s tried to off him before?’

Zayn swiped his tongue over his teeth before casting an annoyed sidelong glance at Harry and he was a fucking idiot for doing so. Harry lifted a jeering eyebrow at him, eyes alive and shining, lips curved into a smirk. Zayn ripped his sight away cursing himself for being so stupid. Now all he could think about was coating Harry’s perfect face with his saliva, taking Harry so far that tears would leak from the corners of his eyes, and using his pretty lips as pillows as he fucked his mouth until they were red and swollen.

Yeah, bad idea.

‘I never tried to kill Liam, it was an innocent misunderstanding.’ Harry tried his voice loud over the silence that had fallen in the stairwell, ‘that night I attacked whoever attacked me, and he didn’t so he wasn’t a target.’ It almost sounded like he wanted to say ‘I promise.’ at the end there.

But Zayn was over it, he was still slightly breathless, agitated and getting more and more worked up at the rasp deepening Harry’s voice ‘why are you here?’

‘To put you out of your misery.’ And no—

Just no no no no

Zayn’s head whipped towards the vampire ignoring the consequences after the pictures those words supplied his brain with. He damn near wet himself.

‘What?’ he practically squeaked, heart kicking into an overdrive he might have thought normal for jackrabbits. Had he heard right?

Harry, who had pushed from the wall, smiled at him. Like actually smiled so the pearly whites of his teeth were visible and the corners of his eyes curved. Zayn spotted the dents dimpling each of his cheeks and there went his breath again. Harry Styles should be illegal.

‘As I told you before, I don’t work here.’ He reminded with a chuckle. Zayn kept his eyes on Harry’s as the vampire began to descend the stairs he stood on, ‘Therefore, whomever decided to keep you in the blue about my information, can do little to nothing to me for telling you whatever you want to know.’

When Harry finally reached the platform, he gestured to the open stair space to Zayn’s left. ‘If I sat next to you would you attack me?’

No. ‘Would it do me any good?’

No. Harry had his answer. Yeah, he knew he wouldn’t attack him, but when Harry settled down next to him an arm’s length away, he couldn’t help wondering if he had tried to attack him, would it have been for pain or pleasure. It’s not surprising that Zayn was thankful for the way Harry hadn’t tried to evade, respecting the way Zayn kept his body angled towards the wall of the stairwell.

‘You smell like him by the way.’ Harry informed softly causing Zayn to lift his eyes from Harry’s wrinkled pants to his face. He’ll never learn. Harry eyes bored into the side of his face contradicting the tone of his voice. ‘Your boss. I recognized your scent yesterday, though it was overpowered by Liam since you were wearing his clothes. But today I caught a hint of someone else the same as I did yesterday. I’m guessing he’s the one that got you barreling through crowds of people just to get out of the building then?’

 _You’re more than half the reason._ ‘You know you’re pretty smart for a tall bloke.’

And Harry chuckled again, obviously delighted by Zayn’s ever changing mood; even more enthused by his snarky attitude. ‘So, ask away.’

Zayn stilled then. Where did he start? There was so much he could ask, so much he could say, so much he could actually do, but at that moment Zayn chose to actually stare at the vampire’s elbows propped onto his knee’s then to the interlinked fingers of Harry’s hands. The skin was tanned almost a shade darker than his, and he could feel the heat swimming its way into the side of his body Harry’s sat on. It took everything for him not to melt into a boneless heap at the engulfing him.

Zayn shook his head to clear it, before swallowing the lump forming in his throat, ‘I’ve met thousands of vampires in my time….why are you so different?’

The answering hmm was thoughtful if not understanding. Harry unlinked his fingers and held out his right hand as an offering to Zayn, who stared at it like the urges it provoked caused him physical pain. He might have cringed. ‘Don’t be so daft… it’s just a hand. I won’t hurt you Zayn.’ He promised

And damn if his stomach hadn’t knotted at hearing his name leave Harry’s lips. Zayn moved surprisingly steady fingers to curl around the circle of the wrist presented to him and it might have been cliché to say that he felt as if he were burned. But seriously…

He pulled his hand back with a slight jerk, ‘You’re really—’

‘Warm, yeah.’ Harry supplied around a chortle. ‘It’s because of my heart. I’m not human any longer, but my heart pumps 3 times faster than humans. The result is the heating of my blood and skin.’

Vampires were supposed to be the walking dead…right? ‘How exactly does that work?’

Harry scritched at the back of his curls plotting his answer correctly. ‘It’s complicated. It usually depends on either the way a vampire is made or who makes them. Regular vampires drink the blood of a human and feed it back to them. They become the dead. My maker never drained my blood. He fed me his, but he’s also a very strong and old vampire. My body functions the exact way his does.’

‘And you breathe as well?’

‘Yeah, it’s not a choice. I have to breathe or I’ll die.’

How normal. ‘What happens to you in sunlight?’

…. ‘I don’t sparkle if that’s what you’re getting at.’

Zayn actually huffed a short laugh. ‘What happens?’

‘Nothing,’ he says simply. ‘UV doesn’t burn me here, and it never did out there.’

‘So you’re _really_ different.’ Zayn pushed pieces starting to fall in place.

Harry shrugged, ‘depends on how you define different.’

‘Yesterday I remember Niall saying that that mirror cube was almost indestructible. The material was made by NASA, and yet you were about break through it after all the blood you had lost. You were supposed to be weak.’

Harry had frozen half way through his sentence but now he was shaking his head insistently, ‘No, that’s not true. Have y—Have the V.E.C. been starving vampires in order to torture them?’

‘I don’t observe the vampires, I catch them.’

Harry rolled his eyes so theatrically that it reminded Zayn of someone he used to know, ‘vampires who refuse blood will not die from starvation. It makes a regular weakling delirious and when you’re delirious you get stronger correct? This place is prone for breakouts.’

Right. ‘So, you’re saying anyone could have broken the indestructible glass created by NASA?’

Harry stammered slightly and Zayn was really enjoying the way he got Harry to falter so early on in this conversation, ‘I’m not saying—it’s never that easy, you’ve got to be….lemme see—’

Really strong. Like higher power strong, Zayn thought as he began to go over the way a king comes to power. ‘How does this royalty thing work?’

Harry shot him an unreadable glance before turning to stare at the concrete wall parallel to where they were sitting, ‘Battle is everlasting.’ He started. ‘Thousands of years ago men quarreled for their rightful place in society, and it’s something men continue to do today. A title is challenged usually when an amateur offers to dual you for it. The last man standing takes the title.’

He paused as if trying to let the gruesome hidden rather nicely behind his choice of words sink in, ‘so basically you kill each other off?’

‘Correct, it’s the same way for vampires, but there’s actually power in strength involved. Once you obtain the title, like say a Lord, the strength of the fallen challenger essentially flows into you…making the victor that much stronger.’

‘And you’ve done this?’ not that it was hard to believe, he no longer doubted the strength behind the pretty dimpled innocent looking face.

Harry snorted, ‘Is it obvious?’

‘So you would work your way up to being King and then what’s the point. Why?’ this all seemed like some twisted paradox. Kill and eventually be killed.

‘Ultimately it would’ve come to that. But because I don’t like taking orders from someone I can’t see, I figured I’d rather take his place.’

Zayn frowned. He turned his face to stare incredulously at the side of Harry’s face. the manly part of him lost to how much he wanted to whine about Harry being far too perfect to waste away like that; he was far too pretty. ‘That was your goal? To join the ranks and die?’

Harry’s eyes were still glued to the opposite wall as if it were a screen for his memories to play out on film. ‘No, not every vampire is a part of this regime of orchestrated plots of murders. The king picks his protectors and the vampires he chooses are usually the strongest to keep him from losing his title. My maker is a very strong vampire…he was forced to join the regime as a favor he owed to the ruling King at that time. I don’t know much about it, but I joined so I could stay with him and learn.’

The emotions rushing through Zayn’s body right then were indistinguishable. He could feel his fingers trembling as they hung limply off the metal of the wall railing, but he couldn’t place the pressure building at the back of his head. More and more pieces of the puzzle slotted together smoothly.

‘And the others…have you noticed they act differently around you?’

Harry nodded, ‘my status as a highly ranked vampire lord would be to blame for most of their behaviour, but it’s also because of statistics. I’m older than I look, stronger, wiser. Vampires may be thought of as thoughtless and reckless, but the majority of them have respect.’

Respect? They already referred to him as King…

‘We’re liable for our hand at the title ourselves, but we protect him while he’s still in order.’ Harry went on, words a little slower than before. ‘So we take out whomever he feels threatened by, and disperse of the evidence.’

Disperse of evidence.

 _Disperse. Of. Evidence_.

Suddenly the night of the fire rang through his mind like a warning bell. The nonsense that his brain came up with at that moment made perfect sense.

‘This King…’ he started gruffly, turning to look at the vampire fully. ‘How long has he been in order for?’

Harry had started a little, probably at his sudden change in demeanor ‘for the last 15 years…at least.’

Then it happened. Images of the smoldering flames waffling around his childhood home surfaced, he saw the smoke billowing above the tops of trees, felt his feet pounding against the damp soil, heard his own sobs of agony then—

He shot up from the spot he sat on the stairs. Fucking disperse of evidence.

He’d been sitting there having a friendly chat with someone who could have murdered his family, regardless if he had no evidence. He’d been so distracted by Harry’s face that he’d let defenses fall, he’d done the thing a hunter was to never do. Drop his guard in front of vampire.

Great, now he needed to get out of there before he did actually try to attack Harry. The painful way he’s sure of it.

Zayn ignored the look of utter confusion as he looked around for the floor number. The white sign plastered on the wall next to the silver door of the exit below read a bold **3.**

Perfect, ‘I’m leaving now. You can back to kissing Liam’s ass now.’

He turned and didn’t look back, pushing out of the large metal door of the first floor as soon as he saw it.

<><>><<><> 

As soon as the outside air hit his face, he could tell it was raining. Zayn gave a look towards the silvery grey sky darkening over the sun that had been brilliant that morning. It’s funny how the weather changed with his mood.

Feeling the way the rain droplets were starting to flatten his hair against his forehead, Zayn turned and walked down the backstreet the exit lead to; dress shoes filling with the excess water when he stepped into puddles. Normally he’d pitch a bitch about it, but now he didn’t even care that when he would reach his GMC that the seats would get wet. He needed a true break if he were going to be taking Niall’s prescription actively.

Rightfully so. As he stumbled down another back alley, flickering of what he could only imagine were his memories popped in and out of his focus. He didn’t think this through, yeah he took the pills to help him remember, but he should have picked his placing better. Timed it better at least. It didn’t help that with every picture, every cut of sentence he experienced he felt like lying down a taking a nap.

Open for any rapist or bum to assault and—

Zayn spun around and grabbed onto the first thing his hands could grip; Harry’s sopping jacket lapels. The vampire gave him that look that was really starting to make Zayn want to rip his hair out.

‘Congratulations,’ he wished mockingly, ‘You lasted for almost 2 minutes at ignoring me.’

Zayn shoved Harry hard enough to create a short distance. ‘Why the fuck are you following me?’

And it was obscene the way Harry continued to look like a million bucks when soaked with pelting raindrops and illuminated with the poor quality of the hidden sun. ‘Is that not what you took from my going for the King’s title? Following is what I do right?’

Fine, Zayn spat the salty water running into the corners of his mouth out and backed up, ‘Follow whoever you want, I don’t give a shit. Just stay the hell away from me.’

‘What happened?’ he heard Harry ask after he finally turned his back to the vampire. ‘We were having a decent conversation. Have I said something amiss?’

Zayn’s mind told his legs to keep walking—and they did; only they decided to head back in the other direction. Shit.

Zayn leveled the patient vampire with a heavy look ‘do you even think about the lives you take when you perform your little job as a hit man?

Harry scoffed dramatically, rain plastering the swirl of curls against the plane of his furrowed brow ‘Do you?’

No, ‘When I kill it’s definitely not humans I’m harming, dumbass.’

A laugh then, a genuine, shoulder shaking, gut deep laugh left the cavern of Harry’s mouth, ‘So just because they’ve lived longer and have different priorities, it’s okay to kill them? That’s incredibly hypocritical for starters, and what does this matter?’ Harry asks earnestly. ‘This argument would be going nowhere because it’s already established that we’re both killers; serial at this point. What’s this really about?’  

‘November 27th, 2001.’ Zayn lowed, eyes black. ‘Where were you?’

Because he had to know. Everything was starting to make sense; First the vampire he saw over his bed, and now the confirmation from an actual vampire about vampires attacking unexpectedly. Why would a hit be placed on his family though?

It was confusing and clear all at once, and the face Harry made was all he needed. It faltered and it could have done so for many reasons. Right now his brain chose to think that Harry had something to do with his family’s murder.

Zayn gave the stunned vampire a fiery look before turning on his heels again.

‘You know Zayn for all I remember, I could have been passed out drunk under a hookers skirt. I can’t just think up a date and remember it clearly. I’m almost 200 years old.’ He scoffed. ‘I don’t have any recollection of that night.’

Join the club. Zayn thought sourly before another wave of images flickered for a second, causing his body to get a bit buzzy. This time it wasn’t even worth jumping when he noticed Harry walking in pace at his side.

‘You’re hiding something.’ He said angling his tall figure towards Zayn’s body a bit, ‘if you know something spill it.’

Please ‘Oh, like you don’t know.’

Harry cut into his walking path to stop his progress, the green of his eyes glimmering somehow. ‘Don’t know what?’

‘Get out of my way Harry.’

‘No.’

Zayn attempted to side step the vampire only to be blocked again ‘Harry, I swear to god—’

‘You’ll what Zayn?’ Harry demanded finally showing an emotional outburst that had Zayn wanting to pant and raise his voice. ‘You’ll yell at me and call me names? Haven’t you noticed that your attitude doesn’t work on me?’

Zayn turned his head to escape the feeling of imprisonment Harry’s stare brought, but it was useless because Harry moved into his line of vision.

‘I want to talk to you,’ Harry confessed, eyes wide now. ‘So if you’re stubborn enough to disagree, then get me out of your way.’

And Zayn was trying to form comprehensive thoughts, speak intelligible words, or at least words that were English, but he really couldn’t…it’s just his body was probably reacting badly to those pills, he might have been having a panic attack, and Harry was really, _really_ close and provocative and—

Fuck it.

He lunged. And at first Zayn was certain there was supposed to be a fist flying somewhere in there, or maybe a leg kicking. Nope.

Zayn had lunged at the waiting vampire, but as soon as he entered his personal space he couldn’t fight it. His lips smashed harshly against the pink warm ones he had fantasized about for what had felt like an eternity.

Harry pulled back with a ragged gasp, legs stumbling back a bit, and eyes widening comically with the stunned expression morphing his face. It could have been in that moment that Zayn told him off, laughed it off saying that was him getting Harry out of his way, but he couldn’t. The way Harry raised a shaky hand to touch the curve of his lips _did_ something to Zayn.

But it was the sparkling green eyes meeting his own that lit the spark and he didn’t think about anything anymore. Zayn reclosed the distance before taking hold of Harry’s wet curls and pressing his lips gently against the vampire’s.

Zayn felt Harry shiver at the groan of satisfaction that left his throat when Harry’s mouth opened underneath his. The kiss was tender, sweet (at first), fluent and messy with the help of the rain continuing to slick the planes of their faces, but neither of them appeared to care.

Zayn’s legs moved; backing the vampire up until he hit the surface of one of the brick walls. It was war the way their tongues battles, how he’d lick the roof of Harry’s mouth to get a gasp, and how Harry would slide his hand down Zayn’s neck to tie the score. It was more than what a dream could do him for, because anything dream Harry could have supplied paled in comparison to the real one. The fake one wouldn’t groan when Zayn bit down sharply on the plump of his lip because he would never let him.

It wasn’t until Zayn had begun trying to pull Harry’s shirt up desperate for more skin, did he notice that Harry was arching his hips and babbling a little as he held fast to Zayn’s shoulders.

‘Zayn—’

Zayn ignored him, working his lips down the length of Harry’s smooth jaw line and scraping his teeth along the side of his neck. The reaction was totally worth it with the way Harry lost it, knees giving out, head lolling back, eyes showing the whites. He bucked fiercely into the hand Zayn left balled into the shirt he’d been attempting to pull out Harry’s trousers.

Zayn bit down harder on the juncture of Harry’s neck just to hear the way the pleasure gets punched out him and groaned as if he could feel it. And he doesn’t know if he more aroused at the fact that he was doing this to Harry or the fact that he had such a powerful vampire weak with just a kiss. It made his heart crash violently.

His fingers danced across the length filling in the compartments of Harry’s jeans and he almost cried because this shit was real, and he could have it if he could just get the damn buckle loose—

A guttural growl laced the groan tearing its way through Harry’s vocal chords, and it shot straight to his dick. Suddenly it his back pressed against the hard brick of the wall, his neck getting assaulted, and his hips bucking. Harry settled between the V of his legs, warm hands working their way underneath and up his shirt scorching the wet skin it they touched. Zayn felt a hot swipe across the line of his lips and then one near the column of his neck.

Harry bucked up against Zayn’s groin making them both exhale in ecstasy. Zayn mouth fell open when Harry’s hands settled on his hips keeping him steady, while his nose ran along the side of his neck.

Then— he was gone. And suddenly Zayn felt cold, confused, horridly turned on. He opened his eyes to find the vampire all the way across the alley on the opposite wall. Zayn wagered marching over and pulling him back into their public sex scene, but it looked like he would attack anything that came near him.

Harry stood there for a moment as still as a statue with a hand clamped over his nose. Then he was moving, scrubbing fiercely at the area of his nose and mouth, both visibly stained red. Zayn frowned curiously, but then suddenly Harry was right in front of him again, fist balled at his side. His blood immediately heated once more.

‘If you ever do that again, I won’t hesitate to _kill_ you.’ He deathly promised before turning and leaving Zayn breathless in the rain.

.....

 

.......

 

What the fuck just happened?

 

<><>><<><> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was real this time. Zayn pulled a Thomas and stole Hazza'a first kiss. that thief! i want to say thanyou to people for reading and liking my story and also personally thank my poeples SweetNightingale09, outintheworld, Zarry13 (Jeri_1116), and ZaynCentric for commenting their thoughts and compliments. you guys make me better as a writer. just putting it out there; i dont live anywhere ner England so forgive my imagination and wrongful research. Stick around people, the shit hasent even hit the fan yet!
> 
> With hugs,
> 
> -S


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ummm...madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't hate me.

There always that point in time where you think you might actually be going mad. Most cases involves the hastiness of having a dysfunctional family, others might involve bankruptcy, marital issues, employment, or infidelity. Even Stevie Wonder would be able to see that Zayn has had his misfortunate close calls with the latter.

The walls of the room peeped out from the shadows of darkness covering their expanse, salted droplets of rain beat a steady rhythm across the shaded glass of the windows; thunder rumbled off in the distance. And yet it still seemed quiet, so much that he could swear he heard the blood running through veins. Usually it would have been the fact that his drying fringe was starting to smell like baboon ass that would’ve gotten his man panties twisting, but his brain knew better.    

Zayn snorted before grimacing as he pushed his back into a more suitable position on his couch he conveniently did _not_ set on fire. As if it weren’t enough that Perrie seemed to notice every time Zayn stared at someone’s ass when they walked pass, or the times Zayn would keep his eyes closed and lips sealed before spilling into her after a good fuck.

He loved Perrie, it’s a fact so it’s never been that she wasn’t enough; just that sometimes he wanted more. He never wanted to hurt her feelings and tell her he pictured someone else in order to climax. No matter those impulses he vowed to never stray too far or do too much. Then again you can’t control a wild dog without a leash, and never really shouldn’t be a legal word, let alone exist.

He took the cake today with Harry, because Zayn knew if Perrie ever found out she would probably commit a suicide/homicide murder. The fantasies Zayn had of the two of them together frequently had him close to ruining every pair of boxers he owned, but today the taste of the vampires skin, the searching of his tongue, the noises he coaxed from Zayn’s throat, and the feeling of his length curving up towards Zayn’s had the hunter wanting to literally convulse in pleasure and heave his scatted breaths over the open edge of the leather couch.

Even now Zayn had to bite the corner of the fabric pillow to stifle his dissatisfied groan, it tasted of fabric softener. The sight of Harry’s knees giving out under Zayn’s ministrations began playing like an AB repeated scene in his brain.

And it was no secret to those who passed him as he had walked in daze back to his GMC; Zayn was in turmoil, he continued to be that way his entire journey back to the shielding walls of his flat. The rain most likely helped with his look of a total psychopath, what with the way he walked drenched to the bone through the pouring rain; face a mixture of confused and angry. _He_ probably looked like the one about to commit a suicide/homicide murder.

And he may have been teetering on the edge of it with the hefty amount of times Harry had unknowingly left Zayn with barbaric cases of blue balls; it was almost like a periodic routine. Yes, it was driving him mad. Fucking bat shit in fact.

And a tiny part of Zayn that wasn’t silently begging for Harry’s dick told him he should be frightened. The vampire had threatened his life after all. _With good reason._ But the larger part knew that even if Harry hadn’t signed that contract, he never would have hurt him. Zayn couldn’t deny that Harry had him wrapped around his finger then. He had his head in the clouds with his the way he devoured what seemed like Zayn’s essence and touched the human like a starving man would a pound of meat. He could literally feel the power hidden in the careful caresses of the vampire’s fingers.

He could have easily torn Zayn’s neck out, ripped his head off, drained his blood, or dismembered each limb from Zayn’s body, but he didn’t. And Zayn overridden with foolishness and hormones decided that was enough.

The real worry that should be running him down was what to do about it now.

He couldn’t forget about it, because that’d be impossible.

He couldn’t apologize, because that’d be embarrassing.

And he couldn’t take it back, because he couldn’t turn back time, and even if he could have he wouldn’t.

_Such a fucking idiot._

Zayn sighed turning onto his back and promptly ignoring Tetsuo, again ignoring Perrie’s rules and riding the couch near the chimney, who was still giving him the look he gave Zayn when he walked into the flat drenched and zombielike without so much as a pet on the head for the pooch. It’s like he knew something was wrong, maroon eyes prying as he stared at Zayn from the couch. The whine that left Tetsuo’s throat turned into a groan as the dog shifted around showing his back to Zayn.

_Who’s ignoring who now?-_ His brain taunted, and what?

He couldn’t think straight as it is because his brain was a discharging swirl of confusion but for what its worth he blames the pills. The flickering of his memories had stopped long ago, but his mind continued to buzz. He didn’t have thought-time to argue with himself.

It was times like this he wished he wasn’t alone, that he actually had someone there to distract him, that Perrie didn’t work so damn much when Zayn clearly had enough money to last them several lifetimes. He wished for a moment of silence, a moment where didn’t want to run and hunt at once. He wanted to relax and feel nothing for a moment ignoring the revelations of the past couple days, because it wouldn’t get rid of them, but it would do him some good.

Zayn shut his eyes tight and willed sleep to come upon him before his body acted with his permission. And as darkness started web around the dulling activity of his consciousness, Zayn willed something else upon him that he didn’t care to admit.

He wasn’t certain that his hesitance was for Perrie’s sake or his own.

****

The next time Zayn Malik caught hold of a conscious sense, he no longer smelled of mildew. Around the beckoning of sleep he felt warmth he didn’t recall having before dozing off on his couch. He felt his legs were no longer stretched outward and his back no longer felt like an alibi for murder. Slowly his mind began to piece his thoughts coherently and then he heard it. A trickle of….water?

Huh? He felt his face pull into a rather impressive frown as sounds became clearer around him. a soft ballad played soundly in the background, the rain was silent, but he heard water. Zayn’s eyelids slowly batted away the sleep dragging them back over his eyes until he felt something warm smooth over the rough of his cheek accompanied by the a closer trickle of water; most likely what had followed the warmth after it lifted from its place there.

He could feel more warmth lapping at the skin of his suddenly naked torso and then everything was a bit clearer. His eyes tried harder to open up from the prison sleep held on them as his ears picked up the quiet sound of thunder over the soft music; rain pelting the sides of the house, the water he seemed to be in as it smacked against its container along with his body.

His limbs felt like lead; head tilted in a totally different angle then it was when he had first fallen asleep— as he gradually gained his conscious back with new smells clouding his nostrils; water, fresh flowers, scented candles, morning dew and….honeysuckle?

Zayn’s eyes snapped open spotting a ceiling lit by individual yellow polka dots of light before his head jerked towards his chest with a quickness that shouldn’t have surprised him so much.

They blearily took in the space around him as he did his very best to keep his panic at bay. He was no longer on that crappy leather couch he loathed with vengeance, but a large Jacuzzi that resembled the one inside of he and Perrie’s washroom. The water reflecting the color of the darkened room lit romantically by wax candles littered around the edges of the heated container. Pretty white and red petals floated idly across the surface of the water.

A small part of Zayn’s brain told him that maybe he should call out for Perrie, but the bigger part doubted it. How in the hell would she be able to lift him and carry him all the way from the couch, up the stairs, and into the bathroom? Never mind if she had the strength, how would he have been moved and not woken up from it? Yeah, for the most part he doubted Perrie could do any of this without dropping him or banging his head against something in the process, but regardless of any of his doubt, all confirmation that he needed was directly across from him.   

His skin immediately heated what felt like another 12 degrees as he stared into the green eyes watching him from the other side of the Jacuzzi. His breath whooshed out of his lungs and his heart crashed violently against his ribcage. Zayn’s bum clad in his new pair of checkered boxers slouched low in the seat and made a squeaky sound as his legs automatically—maybe even willingly—fell open in a sentiment that appeared to be inviting the vampire into the opening of them.

Harry watched his every move but somehow managed to keep his eyes on Zayn’s the majority of the time. His curls dampened, skin wet, torso bare, and eyes blazing. Harry looked like whatever was affecting Zayn at that moment was doing the same to him; like any moment he would lunge and do _something_ to him.

Looks like someone heard his pleas.

Zayn swallowed around his suddenly dry cotton mouth, ‘Did you do this?’

‘Do you see anyone else who could have?’ Harry inquired raspyly and it caused shivers to contradict the warm heat of the bubbling water and run down the knobs of his spine.

Zayn sighed shakily, eyes following a bead of water on its journey down the bumps of the other man’s collarbone, ‘Why?’

Harry pushed an ivory coloured petal around with the tip of his pointer finger and shrugged blatantly ‘Does there have to be a specific reason, Zayn?’

Grrr, ‘Could you stop answering my questions with questions?’

A chuckle then, ‘then would you stop asking questions you already know the answer to?’

Suddenly the sounds of their voices died out leaving the sloshing of water and the soft music to fill the in the space of it. Harry appeared to be waiting for something, head tilted a bit, and lips rubbing together to smooth over the water that popped onto them. His green eyes held a glint to them that did nothing to help what was beginning to happen in his nether regions.

Zayn felt a freak out coming on. If Harry didn’t move, talk, or do something he was sure he was going to explode. Hell, he’d even be satisfied if Harry had started threatening him again, because truthfully he had never been quiet and alone with Harry and had been aware of it. The pull of whatever was between them was far too great to ignore and settle with silence. It was driving him insane.

Come to me, his mind willed silently, as he lifted his chin towards the silent vampire. He seemed to be enjoying the distress Zayn appeared to be in; eyes sharp and soft at once. Lips curved the tiniest hint.

Fuck it. Damn those words.

‘Please?’ Zayn pushed out as if he’d been chewing on broken glass. And he might as well have been. The motions of Harry’s finger dancing around with the flower petals froze as his face morphed into something a bit more serious. Zayn’s pulse hammered away beneath his skin because he knew. He understood exactly what Zayn wanted.  

After a second of blinking at Zayn he finally lifted from his perch on his seat and stood, causing water to fall down the crevices of his pecs and catch onto the pores of his shorts. Zayn’s mouth watered. When Harry began wading through the boisterous bubble patterns, Zayn made sure to stand up on his rather shaky jell-o like legs and meet him halfway.

He couldn’t see anything but Harry, seeing as he ignored the light steam started to cloud his vision as well as the fact that he seemed really clumsy as of now, born with two left feet with the way he tripped over them going on three times now. Yeah, he didn’t care; his arms longed for touch, what with the way they reached towards Harry before his brain even thought up such an idea. His ego whined at the way it was deflating with every once of struggle he trudged through to get to the vampire.

It didn’t matter, because as soon as Harry was within reach he knew he wasn’t alone in more than just the sense. Warm hands clamped around his biceps with the same fierceness Zayn’s hands hid poorly when they found skin as well. Finally. He could no longer hear the soft music playing some where in the bathroom nor the rain pelts or the popping of bubbles, he no longer saw the steam blinding his vision, he no longer felt like passing out. Everything was Harry and he was okay with that.

All he could do was look up into the green eyes that often felt like they were peering down so deep that he saw passed Zayn’s eyes, skull, flesh and blood, and directly to his withered and worn soul. Zayn trembled at the mere inch separating his and Harry’s bodies. He felt horrified of what he was doing yet again. Though he wasn’t sure if he was horrified because of the vampire part or because what the vampire made him feel just by….looking at him.

Zayn shook his head, fingers digging lightly into skin that seriously shouldn’t have been this soft. ‘What are you doing to me?’ Zayn asks earnestly.

A warm hand trailed water down his torso as it traveled a way towards his neck for a moment, then moved to settle on the 5 o’clock shadow on his cheek, ‘looking at you.’ He says softly.

Zayn could feel the pink starting to rising from his chest to his face as he bit his lip and stared at a small rivulet of water curving its way down the pecs of Harry’s toned stomach. Zayn pressed a hand to the one covering his cheek as the feeling came to be familiar. ‘Was that you earlier?’ he asked referring to the touch that woke him from his slumber.

‘You mean doing this?’ he asks before moving his thumb in a circular motion across the skin of his cheek. Zayn nods, moving his hand back to its spot on the side of Harry’s ribcage. ‘Then yes.’

He was being so soft with Zayn so gentle with the way he touched him, the way he spoke to him. it made it harder to believe just how strong Harry truly was, and that Harry would actually used that strength to take his life. He frowned as the events of the day came back to him.

Harry dipped his head trying to catch Zayn’s wandering eyes. ‘What is it, Zayn? What’s the matter?’

‘Are you mad at me?’ Zayn whispers, before looking up childlike into Harry’s eyes, because for some reason he really couldn’t bare the thought.

Harry’s thumb froze on his cheek for moment before it started back up; his free hand moving to gently grapple at the hair at the nape of Zayn’s neck. He turned his eyes back onto Zayn’s and shook his head.

_Obviously if he had been mad he wouldn’t have done this for you._

_I need to hear it though_ , ‘talk to me, Harry.’

‘No, I have no reason to be upset with you.’ Harry said on an exasperated sigh.

‘But earlier you said—’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ Harry cut in placing his forehead against Zayn’s. The hunter’s eyes immediately closed as his breath shuddered out of him. It’s foolish what he could do to him with just mere gestures. ‘That was then, this is now. I was just surprised is all.’

Zayn felt a nose nudge the area just beside his own and fingers tug lithely at the short hairs they were soothing through. He knew what Harry wanted but he couldn’t look at him yet. Not with his growing embarrassment. If he wasn’t mad was it okay? He wanted to so badly; so much his bones creaked with it. ‘Can I?’

Harry titled his head curiously as the dent between his eyebrows flashed, ‘can you what?’

Zayn grunted in annoyance, but didn’t move in inch from the thumb soothing over the plump of his bottom lip. _Obviously you know what._

He couldn’t deal right now. Every glide of Harry’s fingers over his skin caused the nerves underneath to strike a spark to a flame. The lack of personal space between them built this flame to a full blown fire with the amount of heat bouncing around. The way Harry kept brushing his lips over open areas of Zayn’s face caused his blood to literally boil. At this point _if_ Harry did decide to put his lips anywhere near Zayn’s, he was sure he would explode on contact.

‘Please Harry,’ he pleaded, refusing to look at Harry, but moving his hands to clutch at the brown spirals of Harry’s curls. ‘I can’t take it anymore.’

‘Shh,’ he soothes pecking Zayn’s nose sweetly. And just like that he got what he wanted. Warm lips opened over his own and there went the strength in his knees. His body quickly dipped into the warm water of the Jacuzzi; water rising only to still just underneath his chest. Strong hands held fast to the sides of his body as the lips left as quick as they came.

So he didn’t explode, but he did whine at the loss; rather pitifully in fact. There was the nudge of Harry’s nose again at the side of his cheek, so he pulled himself together in order to peel his eyelids back. ‘Don’t ever wait for something so silly as such again.’ He chastised with a sassy smirk.

And Zayn nodded. Yeah, sure, whatever…he’d do and or say anything to get those lips back on his own. With an impatient surge he slotted their lips together once more, moaning at the familiarity. It was warm, soft, rough, and sharp at once. Though the kiss was simple, it was enough to shock his nerve endings to life, enough for him to ruin his boxers again, enough for him to lose his wits in a way no other has had him do in for ages. He felt what he knew was true desire, because he could feel it burning in the depths of his very being.

What the hell does that say about his life before Harry?

He didn’t have time to think about it. Not when Harry angled his head in a tilt that caused the kiss to become ubber scandalous. Not with the hand curling its way around the underside of his knee. Not with the way his legs had heeded and wrapped expertly around the thin waist of the vampire. And he could have cried at how perfect this felt, how naturally this came to the two of them. How good it felt to have him near.

He felt the shift in Harry’s hips underneath his thighs as the vampire backed the two of them over to his side of the Jacuzzi, the tips of his digits pressing into the skin between the gaps of his ribs. When Harry’s legs hit the barrier of the Jacuzzi with a soft bump, it was like a gunshot. Their tongues battled for dominance; twisting around each other, thrusting, prodding, lapping, exploring.

Hell, Zayn made it his mission to know every contour of Harry’s mouth the same way he knew how to hunt, before they were through. He wanted to hear those sounds he heard earlier, find those tender spots and coax the noises from his throat. He wanted him weak, moaning, shaking, and begging. Shit, he wanted it all now.

His knees bracketed the vampire’s thighs as they settled into the seat Harry had sat in moments before.

It took him a moment to notice that the bubbles had slowed to mere steam after a hand had disappeared from his sides. Maybe he was too busy tilting his head back to give the vampire more access to nimble on as he trailed sharp nips down the side of his neck. The sounds of the music player had died out now as the playlist ended, and the rain had slowed. He heard the soft hum of the heater over the sounds of water splashing and dripping here and there. But, it was the sounds of Harry’s lips against his skin that caused his hips to jerk helplessly.

Warm breath ghosted over the dampened skin of his neck causing goose pimples to rise. Zayn bit his lip at the hardness starting to stiffen against the muscle of his inner thigh. Lost in his own pleasure he let the vampire suck a bruise into the juncture connecting his neck and shoulder before giving another experimental thrust. A guttural groan slipped out then, adorably soft for how much strength the vampire had laced behind his muscles. His hips ground in circles as he watched Harry come apart beneath him, lashes fanning his cheeks, head thumping heavily against the wall of the Jacuzzi, neck lolling off to the side.

The hands on his sides moved to settle on is hips as the vampire met Zayn’s thrust with pace and intent. The friction was enough to make Zayn faint. _Fuck._ Zayn hips pushed roughly into the lap beneath him earning him the sight of Harry’s eyes rolling back. The vampire hiccupped a grunt before his hips stuttered and he held Zayn close by the hips.

‘Zayn,’ he rasps, and he isn’t sure if it’s a command, a warning, praise, or a plea. All he knows is this is a better version of earlier. And that’s all he could ask for really. Zayn rocked slowly against Harry, who had just given up battle completely, letting Zayn have his way with him. The sight of his sweat-beaded brow furrowing, lids fluttering, mouth opening and shutting almost had Zayn’s hand flying towards his dick throbbing inside the heat of the water.  

A flash of their encounter earlier dawned on his thought and he couldn’t help himself. Zayn bent his head and swiped his tongue across the line of Harry’s lips, moaning with the hot orifice opened immediately beneath his. Their teeth scraped and tongues tangled as his fingers scritched expertly down Harry’s scalp before finding a curl he knew would drive Harry’s mad if he tugged on it.

Harry’s hands were at work too, searching over his open skin and finding what made Zayn jerk and what made him shudder. One of his warm hands moved to cradle his neck, while the other dipped lower on his hip; below the band of his boxers and over the side of his hip. His long fingers stretching far enough to dig into the flesh of his bum while his thumb soothed gently over the hipbone.

Harry took everything Zayn’s mouth threw at him and retaliated just as fiercely, until Zayn began to nibble down the side of his neck. He could hear the way Harry’s breath was getting choppy already with the sloppy kisses he placed near the edge of his earlobe. He absently began to suck a bruise into the line of neck his mouth was on lost in the noises leaving the other mans mouth. It didn’t occur to him that the mark wouldn’t stay until he moved on and watched the puckered skin heal before his eyes. It didn’t stop him, it made him bite harder. He damn near drew blood, sucking until the salt of his sweat disappeared. His teeth scraped across a chord of muscle as Harry bucked and shivered under him; chest heaving, fingers tightening in his dark hair.

‘Shit, Zayn,’ Harry moans, mouth pressed to the top of his ear. His fingers kneaded into the flesh of Zayn’s ass as the hunter began to circle his hips again.

‘Oh, fuck.’ He spits, gritting his teeth and moving to meet Zayn’s thrust vigorously while Zayn continued to maim the skin of his neck; mouth biting, scraping, and sucking until the victimized skin bared angry red bruises that took longer to heal. He bit deeper for pain, sucked longer to bruise, and licked over to soothe, before biting again. The scatted moans of his pleasure, Zayn’s name falling from his lips, and his shuddering pulls of breath fueled Zayn on, who himself moaned at the sex that was Harry’s voice in his ear.

‘You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,’ he grits out through a shaky grunt, ‘I can’t hold out much longer Zayn. I’m so close baby.’

He wasted no time then. Zayn’s hand moved from their fist in Harry’s curls to delve passed the waistband and into the vampires shorts. Harry jerked, a manly squawk leaving him as Zayn’s fingers wrapped around his engorged length and began to stroke with feverish patience. Harry’s hands flew to the back of Zayn’s shoulders, mouth gulping for air, hips stuttering and struggling to match the pace of Zayn’s hand.     

‘Fuck yes!’ he grunts as he lifts his head again, eyes heavy with heady desire, chest heaving with exhaust. Zayn craned his neck down to slot their lips together for another passionate dual of tongues that Harry actively participated in before his lips went lax and his moans picked up with his movements. It was like Zayn could feel the heat of Harry’s come through the hand he had on his dick. He abruptly twisted said hand and Harry yelped, ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, just like that….just like that.’  

When Harry came Zayn had to will himself not to follow Harry over the edge and not just because of the claws Harry dragged down the length of his back. The sight of him was enough to induce about 23 orgasms afterwards. A ragged moan tore its way through Harry’s vocal chords as Zayn pumped him through the orgasm; the vampire beneath him seizing, face crumbling pleasurably as his fangs elongated and locked onto the swell of his kiss bitten bottom lip.

He groaned at the sight, Zayn had to, he craned his neck to steal Harry’s lips from the prison his teeth had on them, fingers massaging the line of Harry’s cock, which wasn’t getting any smaller. Harry responded without hesitation, lips taking his over now. It happened so fast that he wasn’t aware of it, how his dick was out of the slot in his boxers and between the tips of Harry’s fingers.

Harry sucked the plump of Zayn’s lips into his mouth before scraping over them with his fangs. ‘You silly boy,’ he whispers, voice still rough from his ordeal. ‘Oversensitive? You really shouldn’t be so selfless all them time.’

Zayn’s hips jerked and his neck rolled on his shoulders as Harry swiped over the rifts on his shaft and under the slit of his cock. ‘Is this you complaining?’ he slurred, the heat of his words lost in the pleasure he felt.

Harry was touching him. Harry was really fucking touching him.

‘Never,’ Harry promised nipping sharply at the skin of Zayn’s collarbone as he bowed his back. Harry swiped over the sensitive slit repeatedly, using his large hand to massage every inch of him every other stroke. Zayn _mewled,_ fucking to the circle of Harry’s warm fist, before looking down into the pretty emerald green eyes watching him closely. ‘Kiss me.’

Harry moaned and did as he was told; giving attention to both Zayn’s mouth and his dick. Whatever noises that decided to crawl up his throat died inside the cavern of Harry’s mouth as his hand twisted upstroke and his thumb swiped downstroke. His free hand moved about meddling with the skin over his bones, until his rough fingers latched onto the bud of his nipple, plucking and pressing callused rough fingers into the center.

A muffled grunt meshed its way against Harry’s lips as he shamelessly bare his all for the vampire to please. He could feel the sweat starting to pour down the side of his face as his breaths huffed out of him as if he were being punched in the gut. When Harry pinched sharply at his nipple, a cry of pleasure left his lips and he arched his back once more.

Harry trailed kisses down his bared neck and scraped his teeth across the Adam’s apple working inside Zayn’s throat. ‘You like that don’t you?’ He asks pinching at the sensitive bud again.

‘Fuck,’ Zayn spits, grinding into the heat of Harry palm. ‘Can’t you tell?’

‘I love your mouth, Zayn,’ Harry says after a breathy laugh. ‘I can’t wait to fuck it.’

‘Shit,’ Zayn grunted bucking into Harry’s hand now. Please?

‘Get up.’ Harry orders and it’s hard, crisp, and clear enough to silence his thoughts about his obvious problem, and do as he is told. He stood shakily watching as the vampire stood as well to tower over him. For a second there he wondered if Harry was going to threaten to kill him again, when the vampire pecked his lips sweetly, hand still wrapped loosely around Zayn’s dick caressing him. He nudged Zayn’s cheek with his nose before moving around him and dragging his hand with him.

There was a moment before Zayn jerked and peered down into the water to see his dick, still poking through his opening in his boxers, moving and twitching with the touch of Harry’s pale fingers as they glided along the ridges of his cock. ‘Kneel.’ Harry says, and it’s automatic, the way he drops to his knees.

They hit the plastic of the seat softly, and it’s funny because he hadn’t even known he had been moved this close to the wall, or at all. It’s not like he was in the middle of the ocean but he couldn’t swim, water scares the hell out of him (a helluva lot more than heights, vampires, and sharks), but he was still willing to drop breathless into it…just because Harry said so. His hands held on tightly to the edge of the Jacuzzi as Harry moved in behind him.

‘You alright there, love? So quiet.’ Harry whispers, voice somehow resonating in Zayn’s ear, heart, and crotch at once. Zayn moaned at the hands sliding up the lines of his thighs.

‘I-I’ll be perfect when you stop teasing me.’ He says as smartly as he can.

Harry chuckles lips latching onto his earlobe, and his hands rubbing at the intimate areas between his legs. ‘Gentlemen ask nicely.’

Zayn straightened his back and craned his neck to steal Harry’s lips briefly, ‘Then you’ve got the wrong bloke.’

Harry moaned tangling his tongue with Zayn’s as he moved his hand to stripe over the length of Zayn’s cock with impressive speed. Zayn couldn’t hold the kiss for long, his mouth losing battle to the heat building through his body. He exchanged heated open mouth pants with his lover, body and mind confused over which hand to pay attention to. ‘Bend over baby. I’ve got you.’ Harry says slowing his hands and nudging Zayn legs further apart with his knee.

Zayn follows his orders and clamps slippery hands over the edge of the Jacuzzi, the top of his torso halfway over the side. The hand on his dick stroked with precision and heat and the other on his balls fondled and groped them just the way he liked and…. by now he must’ve sounded like a dying dog. He could feel Harry’s dick pressing into the crack of his ass cheeks and the vampire’s fangs scraping across the muscle of his shoulder. Harry’s moans coincided with his own as Zayn ground his hips back.

‘S-shit,’ Harry muttered closing his lips over the juncture of Zayn’s shoulder and grinding his bare erection into the renewed friction his dick was receiving. He sucked a rather impressive feeling mark into the area before dragging his teeth over it and repeating.

‘Do it,’ he stuttered, knowing exactly what Harry wanted. ‘Do it, Harry. Please?’

The hands on his sex sped up as the mouth on his shoulder smoothed its lips over the spot secondly before the fangs punctured the flesh with a juicy _plump!_ And it was indescribable. The puncture, the pleasure, the tugging of his blood though his veins, the endorphins numbing his body from the pain, the hand jerking quickly at his dick now was all causing him to teeter closer and closer to the edge. He felt his eyes roll back and his thighs wobble with the force of the heat building in the pit of his stomach.

Zayn’s eyes shot open, just realizing that Perrie could walk into the bathroom at any moment and he probably wouldn’t even care, in fact the though seemed to get him off more. He could feel the sticky warmth of his blood escaping from Harry’s mouth as he drank and moaned in ecstasy. The grip on his dick tightened and the fondling became more insistent; his body jerking fiercely with the force of Harry’s fist. He was failing at trying to prolong this as much as possible. ‘Oh, fuck, Harry.’ he groans through the lines of his teeth.

‘Mmm,’ Harry growled and Zayn could feel it reverberate through Harry’s chest and into his back. Feral and animalistic it sounded. And he fucking did that to him. It was enough to make his eyes roll and flutter once more. He was losing this battle for sure.

The hand squeezing gently at his balls loosened to fondle once more; caressing in a way that had Zayn sure his head was inflating with hot air. The fingers massaged the sensitive skin before pulling back slowly up in the other direction. Zayn felt the thumb of the hand soothing over his balls the same way it did his cheekbones and hip earlier, then he came with a jolt; the digit of Harry’s finger still pressed directly into the furl of his sensitive opening.  

And his body was on fire, his eyes were wet, and his mouth was dry. He fucking sobbed with his release, hands clasping around the vampire’s forearm, yearning to hold Harry’s hand there forever.

When Zayn opened his eyes, his back was pressed deeply into his uncomfortable leather couch often an alibi for murder. He groaned, his body jerking lithely at the feeling of the dream coaxing whatever amount of come he had left in his dick out. It dribbled down the side of his throbbing erection and settled into an already drying puddle between his thighs.

Zayn sighed in defeat, eyes shooting shards of death arrows at the darkened ceiling above him. Well there went these boxers, he thought bitterly.

Fuck you Harry Styles.

****

When Zayn enters V.E.C Headquarters, he avoids. He avoids looking at people, touching people, and talking to people even a little or at all. He particularly avoids the warm light in Liam’s office across the hall from his and Erik’s, who must been in there kissing ass to see what how involved he could get. Zayn’s eyes lingered as he walked though, then he wished they had some of the superhuman powers vampires used so damn much just so he could see him, look through the walls and just glance a peek at his messy ass curly head. Hear his voice to test if it made him shiver in real life too. He wanted to just know that Harry was fucking real and he wouldn’t vanish after each time they make some type of progress—

A hand tugged him into a dark janitor closet and before Zayn knew what was happening, a mouth was covering his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know exactly what it feels like when a story i'm reading doesnt update for a while without warning, and im truly sorry for bestowing that onto you guys. So as you've read, this was really a tease...but i couldnt just go on and leave you guys without something to read. the next chapter will be up very soon maybe mid week if not tomarrow. its already half written and thought out. i just need to do a little research :))) a massive bear hug to my wonderful supporters ZaynCentric, zarry10 (Jeri_1116), Carey Mickelson, AlyssaHoran, IAG, SweetNightingale09, and Vivi for commenting your kind thoughts, they make me SUPER happy. also thanks to those who put time out to read my story either way. its kind of you. so this is just a little message/ apology saying that you guys wont have to go through that agian anytime soon. this fic will be over before you know it.xxx


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay one step closer!

Zayn grunted against the lips shoving his apart and wondered if he should fight them off or battle for domination. He’d been so lost in dreaming about that damned vampire (again) that he’d let his mind fizzle had gotten himself snatched up. As a hunter this was fairly offensive to his training and any of those who trained him.

He felt hands find the rise of his cheeks and settle there; warm calloused large hands definitely familiar and belonging to a male. Zayn bucked as one of the hands moved the graze the circle of his nipple through his cotton dress shirt before traveling down to palm at his oversensitive dick. The kiss turned fierce in a matter of seconds, the mouth against his hot, insistent, skilled, and precise, but…not right.

‘Mmm,’ Zayn muffles against the lips of his partner. He pulled back enough to break the kiss but not enough to spare space, the intruder gropes at his growing erection with such ease it has him losing his will. ‘Hey, hey, wait a min—.’

‘Shh,’ they hush, skillfully unzipping the spine of his zipper and pulling out his dick. The sudden rush of air hitting the precome beading the head of him caused Zayn to shudder thoroughly. And then he felt the warm thumb of the hand spread the substance about the tip causing Zayn to cave in on himself a bit.

‘Shit,’ Zayn spat for what felt like the thousandth time this morning.

Zayn’s dick twitches in the hand of the stranger grateful for the foreign touch other than his own. He hears what distinctly sounds like dead weight falling onto knees when suddenly warmth; wet, hot, airy, warmth is around and over the tip of his cock.

‘Fuck—fine, do that then.’ He says and on garbled groan. His hands reach out for something to grapple onto as the mouth on his dick begins to bob and the hand, not keeping his hips steady, was massaging whatever the mouth couldn’t reach. The tongue rough and warm swirled around the ridge of his shaft, before tonguing the slit like a dog would a waterhole.

The sounds alone were enough to make his head loll of to thud against something metallic, as the mouth of the stranger took him in inch for inch, fitting his dick down the walls of their throat. ‘Fuck,’ he whimpered, respectfully not bucking to the mouth as the guy deep throated him. The stranger pulled off with a wet pop. Their hand massaged the length of his dick, while the other moved from his pelvis and towards his bum where it kneaded the flesh.

Puckered lips smeared precome and access saliva over the head of his cock then, blowing on the tip, before taking him back in for a few more sucks; hand at the base of his dick working fiercely as the tongue swirling around the thick skin of his shaft probed at the slit of his cock. He bucked helplessly, biting off a strong grunt.

The stranger reached up and tweaked his nipple again before trailing his hand down between Zayn’s thighs; his long fingers finding and groping his balls tenderly. Zayn almost came so hard he was sure he would have blacked out, but he didn’t because …it didn’t feel right. Maybe because this was happening just outside the hall shared by his father figure Liam Payne?

The stranger sucked on the head of his dick coaxing all the saltiness of precome out, before lapping at the slit. The warm hand on his dick striped it furiously as the tongue on the head swirled and moved to lap at the underside of his dick, obviously cajoling him to come. And though he hadn’t a clue who this was, why this was happening, and how he felt about it, he couldn’t resist; what with that copious amounts of torture Harry put the head between his shoulder and his legs through.

That’s all it took. Zayn came like a shot down the warm throat swallowing around his shaft. He spit the name like poison and prayer wrapped up with a ribbon on it. The rugged tear of his teeth bit into the bottom of his lip so hard he drew blood. ‘Fuck, Harry.’ he gasped, chest heaving as white spots danced around his vision until his training picked up then.

‘Have you seen him yet?’

‘No.’ muffled but familiar. Wait.

‘I don’t know I’m beginning to get a bit worried. He’s never late, and I tell you sick days do not exist for that bloke. I could barely get him to go home in the past…so I’ll just have to go out to find him then.’

Run on sentence…that had to be Liam.

Zayn moved quickly. He tucked himself back into his pants and ignored the hand grabbing at his wrist, ‘wait,’ the stranger whispers. He finds the knob and pushed the door open, his eyes catching the first thing he’s been longing to see all of fucking forever.

Harry is looking after where Liam had most likely had gone, eyes squinting and neck craning as he searched for something or someone. Nameless it may have been he found it regardless. Once his green eyes locked onto Zayn’s, for a moment stayed full of curiosity before quickly morphing to shock at seeing him, then suspicion, then on with the unreadable emotions crossing his handsome features. His head tilted for a second and his mouth curled back then. He was sneering; teeth bearing as his eyes trailed over Zayn’s form.

Damn, was he really still that pissed over yesterday?  

But then it occurred to him to think. And Zayn had been so relieved to see him didn’t even give thought to what the hell he had _just_ been doing. If Harry was out here, who the hell was in there? As of now the glint in Harry’s eyes must’ve matched his own. Erik saved the day for once; walking up totally oblivious to the showdown happening between vampire and hunter. He was holding a large book of files, head buried deep into them, ‘Hey, Haz, could you show me where to find—’

Zayn shut the closet door, fingers searching for the light switch and then flipping it on. He turned on his heels to spot the man who blew him seconds earlier, and his heart shouldn’t even have stopped like that.

Damn Thomas Pfaff.

The blonde’s pupils were dilated so wide the blacks almost overtook the blue. He wiped at the edges of his mouth and palmed at the noticeable erection tenting the front of his pants as he waited for Zayn to speak to him. He didn’t have to wait for long.

‘Are you out of your fucking mind?’

Thomas bit his lip, sauntering closer to Zayn a seductive manner that seriously made Zayn want to puke. ‘Not yet, but for you I’ll be.’ He grabbed the palm of Zayn’s tanned hand and placed it onto the tent of his pants. ‘Make me feel good. Touch me, Zaynie—’ he tried but his voice cut of as a hand curled around his throat.

‘How about choke.’ Zayn spat squeezing his hand tight enough make his boss sputter for air and his eyes to begin bulging from their sockets. ‘Are you drunk? High? Mad? What the fuck horoscope, fortune cookie, or whatever the fuck you read nowadays told you this shit was okay?’ he demands before checking his anger and letting go of Thomas’s neck with a hefty shove. ‘You’ve completely crossed and blurred the lines between employee and employer, you realize that?’

‘What’s your problem Zayn?’ Thomas gasps after a moment of catching his footing and breath. He absently rubbed at the water starting to leak from the corners of his eyes. ‘A minute ago you I swore you mumbled to me, ‘don’t stop.’’

‘Are you listening to me?’ Zayn sighed pinching the bridge of his nose ‘this is molestation, sexual harassment, public indecency, and just clearly against a load of laws. I fucking like my job.’

Thomas tsked, finally letting go of his neck which had turned a funny shade of bubble gum pink, ‘again, I don’t remember you demanding me to stop.’

Zayn grunted on the verge of pulling out the hair he would roll on fire to keep up, ‘I thought you were—’

Thomas scoffed, ‘What, someone else?’

Oh, shit. He had called out a name.

‘Who, Harry?’ he snarls and it snaps Zayn out of his mumbling mishap, ‘so, then with him, its okay?!’

‘That doesn’t matter. Look, asshole, this is my last time doing anything like this with you…ever…ever in furrowed eternity. I swear to God, Thomas the next time you approach me I’ll assume it has nothing to do with work.’ Zayn shook his head and pulled out the jackknife he carried religiously. ‘Since you clearly didn’t take my last warning to heart, I won’t bother to write you up, or tattle, because if you pull some shit like this again, I’m just going to stab you right in your tiny dick. Do you understand?’ he demands, voice dipping icily as his features became dead serious.

When Thomas opened his mouth, Zayn had to stop his hand from stabbing at is tongue, ‘Don’t speak, just nod.’

A moment passed, then a frown came, and then a shiver. The nod surfaced soon after.

He was frightened. Good Thomas actually took Zayn seriously for once.

‘Good boy,’ he mimicked before moving the knife from Thomas’s crotch where it had been poised to attack. ‘Now get lost, before my brain does away with the minority of reasons why I shouldn’t cut you right now.’

The man before him shuddered a huff, before straitening his clothing and smoothing his hair. He waited a moment, opening the wooden door, checking both ways before switching the light off and closing the door behind him softly. Zayn didn’t look the look Thomas shot his way before he left the threshold. Though it like him was something he would ignore starting now.

Zayn swallowed, releasing his anger through steady breaths flowing in and out his nose. He straightened his clothing then, left his hair alone, and switched the light on again to check the floor to see if anything had dropped out of his messenger when he was ravished by Thomas’s attack. When he poked his head out of the darkened closet, nearly every agents head was buried in their computers, and the paired office doors were closed, along with the head office belonging to Liam Payne.

Zayn slipped out looking behind the wooden door again just be safe and then back to the opening. It was clear. Zayn slid out; his nimble fingers turning the bar on the knob to lock after closing as he let the door swing a gentle stop. It clicked in placed, rattled when he moved it, but didn’t budge. Good riddance.

He turned a 180 back to the direction of his office and nearly had 4 heart attacks and 10 babies. He might’ve jumped about 6 feet from the ground as he clutched at his heart, seething at the vampire already glaring back at him.

Silence. Damn, unbearable silence.

‘Guess you aren’t going to shoot me, eh?’ Harry says after raising his brow at Zayn expectantly.

‘It’s illegal to open fire in the offices.’ He grumbled trying to calm his ever crashing heartbeats.

For a moment it looked as if Harry was beginning to glower at him the same way he had been before Zayn closed the closet door to set Thomas in his place, but then he lifted is chin and titled his head in that curious innocent way of his. ‘Liam was looking for you.’

…. ‘Oh?’

‘He was worried sick, on the verge of storming your home in a search raid.’ Harry drawled lazily, scratching at the side of his head.

‘He told me that if I found you, I was to pass down that you were needed. Your boss requested your presence. Said it was urgent that he meet with you the instant you walked in.’ he slurred, eyes looking Zayn over the same way the other man couldn’t help doing the vampire.

Harry clad casual clothes really shouldn’t have gotten his libido going again so quickly. Harry could obviously smell it. But the sight of the Pink Floyd t-shirt cuffing his toned biceps caused his hands to shake, and his long torso had Zayn denying himself the chance to feel along the individual pecs again. Damn his long legs and stupid scuffed Converse.

‘It may appear to me,’ he continues, hands moving to ball in the depths of his pockets, ‘that you two have already settled this _‘urgent’_ matter.’ he finishes eyes locking onto the janitorial closet Zayn had come out of. And to anyone else the vampire would have appeared drunk with how slow he was moving and speaking to him.

But that’s not what had Zayn fighting for his chance to reason, ‘No, it’s not what you think—’

Suddenly Harry’s eyes were active and his speech was faster, ‘You don’t have to explain anything to me, Zayn. As far as you’re concerned I can’t get you fired. I’m just the messenger here. Let’s just— for the sake of not wasting either of our time, I saw nothing.’

Zayn vehemently shook his head at once ‘It’s not like that—’

‘Harry?’ Liam’s voice called a ways away, ‘Is that Zayn?’

The vampire who had been giving Zayn a look full of nothing, not scrutiny, not judgment, not hate, anger, nor sadness, tore his eyes from Zayn to nod at his partner. ‘Yeah, I told him everything.’

Zayn flinched once the eyes left him, glad be riden of such absence. He’d prefer the murderous threats over this any day. ‘Well, Zayn’s the type that has to be told again. Zayn, you alright mate?’

Zayn felt his throat start to shut as Harry turned back to him, he immediately closed his eyes and angled his head towards Liam to keep his worry at bay, ‘I’m fine Liam, he told me everything.’

There was a pause and he could almost feel Liam’s hesitant steps towards him, he couldn’t let him get too close. ‘I’m fine.’ He repeated adding the stubbornness he had to actually muster up this time around, ‘just boss me around so we all can leave here.’

Liam heaved a loud sigh audible from the distance between them. It strangely stirred a sort of calmness in Zayn ‘look, don’t bail on him just because you hate him Zayn. I know that’s what you wanted to talk to me about. And it’s fine to feel that way, but I need you not to lose your job because your shit is out of whack again. I’m not them so don’t go pulling the crap you pulled with me anymore, got it?’

And that’s Liam Payne for you, harsh, soft, stern, and helpful, as well as the only V.E.C. member who could talk to Zayn like he’s an idiot and not get his head sheared off afterwards.

Zayn turned his neck and lifted his head so that his eye could catch the strictness in Liam’s, ‘Of, course.’

‘Good,’ Liam smiled and Zayn rolled his eyes on a huff, but in actuality the icy grip of weariness growing around the shelves of his insides began to warm over. ‘Right, then, Harold. Let’s hop to it.’

Zayn looked back up to find Harry giving Liam an odd look before starting his way and stopping again most likely waiting until Liam was out of sight. Zayn had tried to look elsewhere until the vampire passed him but failed, gazing curiously into the gorgeous face that plagued his dreams. There was something there this time, not a lot but a hell of a lot better than what was shown to him minutes ago.

His eyes assessed Zayn’s face before he sighed and picked up movement again only to pause a half step so the two of them were shoulder to shoulder. He sniffed as Zayn frazzled at the sliver of an inch that prevented their arms from touching. ‘At least, now I know why you smell like him so much.’ He says as if he commenting on the weather before moving to follow after Liam.

For fucks sake!

‘I thought it was you!’ he damn near bellows and where the fUCk was his vocabulary filter today? He covered his eyes with the heels of his palms and turned towards Harry’s frozen back. What the hell, it was out there now. ‘I thought it was you.’ He repeated in defeat, his eyes watching the way Harry’s neck inches back and forth as if he’s trying but failing at not to looking at Zayn.

His green eyes latch onto Zayn’s familiar to the way Zayn’s onto Liam’s moments ago. He shook his head as if to brush it off, ‘I—I have to go.’

Zayn watched as the vampire waded his way through the aisles of tables and when he didn’t look back towards Zayn, his heart did that freezing thing again.                                      

****

This is mad. Like stalker shit mad. Like what the fuck are you doing right now, mad. No, this was soo fucking stupid, but he couldn’t stop himself. Zayn cursed internally at the war raging inside his brain as he navigated through the traffic of London’s busy streets. For once it wasn’t a rainy night, but his arms felt heavy, his body buzzing, his stomach like lead and the weight of the small piece of paper in his right hand strangely profound.

Since Zayn had been taking his pills ceremoniously, it’s technically okay to blame Niall’s dopamine prescriptions for his actions like he’s done for the past two days.

Emotions, so many fucking emotions.

That’s all he’d been having since he ate lunch earlier. After ignoring whatever bullshit meet up Thomas had obviously planned before he decided to pull Zayn inside that janitor closet, he popped them hoping to get that feeling of liberation he got the first time he took them.

It was tricky for the first 5 minutes; he remained stationed in his office chair as if he were desk bound, fingers messaging the tender flesh between the parallel of his eyes as flashes of his mother’s smile, his sister’s laughter, and his father’s clumsiness played like flashes of Polaroid pictures across his vision. The sounds that came with them garbled and glitched like the playback from a disk left out to melt in the sun. Afterwards nothing meaningful; nothing but a dramatic impulse to find Harry.

Suddenly he just needed Harry to understand, he needed to apologize, he needed to _get_ to him. So… that’s probably how this started. The reason he ignored the case files starting to pile the surface of his desk, babbled incoherently whenever Erik asked him questions. Seriously Zayn knew it was the reason he stalked the door of Liam’s office, until his dear friend returned a little past midnight (alone), worked for an half hour before the warm light of his desk lamp went dark.

Zayn didn’t miss the look Liam shot across the hall towards him; brief and meaningful. Zayn had watched as Liam brought his office door to a stop just a few inches from the jam and bristled because Liam saw through his mask again. Exactly _when_ Liam had figured out what Zayn had been planning would continue to remain a mystery. Nevertheless, Zayn had gone into action as soon as Liam left his line of vision.

Erik had given his partner an odd look a when Zayn stood up and wished him a goodnight before leaving the joint office. Probably because Zayn never wished anyone goodnight, let alone left the office anywhere close to midnight aside from the times Liam had something to do with it. Zayn had crept to the other side of the hall and stealthily slipped through the open crack of Liam’s office door. Then he snooped.

Through the small beam of his flashlight he rummaged Liam’s now _slightly_ organized desktop looking for something, anything that might hint at what he was looking for. After a moment Zayn began to panic because he was sure all this a was a bit of a moot point considering everything he sifted through was disorganized papers, and misplaced case files, until he spotted a manila sticky note placed neatly on the far edge of the wooden desk. A message scrawled in Liam’s handwriting.

**Fraser Place, Canary Wharf, London.**

**Show the check in assistance your V.E.C. Badge. They will tell you the floor. You’ll know from there.**

**P.S. don’t do anything reckless, both of you are unpredictable, but only God knows what _you’re_ up to. Try not to kill or be killed. **

After the stop light turned green he pressed his foot to the petal, eyes flickering form the streets to the sticky note in his hand. It should bother Zayn how much Liam knew about him however meager the details. He just knows.       

Its stupid to even think it because not only is Harry a vampire, but he’s an upgrade of sorts. Regardless why would Harry be staying somewhere far off from where the HQ was located? Why would he just leave and go somewhere miles away instead of staying right where he was needed.... And now Zayn wasn’t sure if he was thinking about the case or his selfish sexual appetite for the vampire.

Zayn exhaled a breathy sigh and stuck the note to the middle of his dashboard. He tugged at the knot of his tie as he turned onto Trafalgar Way and pulled his car into a still at the nearest curb. Parking tickets were the last thing on his mind. But he hesitated purposefully.

Zayn had time to turn back around, pretend that this was just another one of his crazy impulses and go home to his vacant cold bed. He needed weigh his options, because there’s hardly any doubt that if he went inside Fraser Place tonight, he wasn’t going to leave it the next day a ‘non cheating fiancé’. He and Harry would more than likely cross lines tonight if he goes…..

‘Here goes nothing,’ he says pulling at the handle of his car door.

****

So Zayn wanted have sex with him, that didn’t mean he was going to. In fact he wasn’t, he just wanted to set things straight. He wouldn’t give in to the rest of his silly impulses for the night. Zayn mentally encouraged himself as he walked across the posh luster of the extravagant main floor that was Fraser Place. The bloke sitting at the front desk watched his approach as if he knew exactly what (or maybe who) Zayn was here for.

He pushed out of his chair to stand as soon as Zayn came within hearing distance, ‘Good evening sir. How may I be of your assistance?’

Zayn shaped his lips in a welcoming smile as he reached in his pocket to pull out the metallic arm band he usually wore when he was out on the field. He carefully slides the armband with his fingers towards the seemingly awestruck employee. Of course, it must be that he knows that vampires exist and Zayn’s reputation. Maybe the entire area Canary Wharf was in cahoots with V.E.C. corporations.

The boy examines the badge with fierce concentration, brown eyes glinting off the shiny silver coating. ‘Okay,’ he says pulling his seat back under him. His fingers flew across the keyboard in front of him with ease, ‘Styles, Harry…..got it!’ he looks up to give Zayn a warm smile and slides his badge back to him, ‘Your floor is number 10. You’ll know the room when you get there.’

Zayn paused, scratching nervously at the back of his neck as he felt the distinctness of his nerves starting to boil over. He needed to do _something_ , ‘Umm, one more thing, is there a private bathroom on the main floor?’

The boy, Oliver he nametag read, blinked at him, before standing up again and leaning in as if he were about to tell Zayn a secret, ‘See that burly security guard there?’ he says pointing his index finger to his left. Sure enough a large man clad head to toe in black, stood stoic and quiet in front of a corner of wall. Though he looked at the two of them suspiciously ‘just beyond him, you will find a door that’s marked ‘ **Employees** **Only’** , ignore it.’ He pulled a card from a slot in the desk and handed it to Zayn, ‘bring the key back whenever you like.’

Was that a wink he shot at him? Call him a little old and oblivious but something told him the kid was flat-out hitting on him.

‘Thanks… have a good night.’ Zayn says before turning and heading towards the direction the kid pointed at.

‘And you as well, agent Malik.’ The boy called after him. He’d still been practically beaming rainbows at him when Zayn glanced over his shoulder. As the front desk vanished from his sight Zayn briefly wondered just what the hell Liam and Harry did to make Oliver so…excited.

****

Zayn stared at the 10 lit on the elevator panel, a little disgusted with himself. Yeah, the nerves were at bay now, but he just felt wrong inside, the taste you would get after brushing your teeth and then drinking orange suddenly present inside his mouth. It’s almost like his body was telling him that it and his brain were disagreeing for the thousandth time since he’d became aware of Harry’s existence. Zayn sighed and glared up at the soft tune of the elevator music.

He should have just asked for the door number. What did they do mark the door ‘Caution guests and employees; be advised there is a deadly vampire inside the walls of this room. Walk this hall as if your life depends on your silence.’

Ridiculousness.    

But…they were right. As soon as the doors opened Zayn knew the room. He spotted two field agents standing on either side of a hotel door at the very end of the hall. Couldn’t they have been more subtle? Had Zayn not known exactly who was inside the walls of that room, he’d be suspicious.

His legs were moving before he could stop them and it caused them to notice his approach. Young, maybe just promoted agents they were. They too looked as if they knew exactly who Zayn was and the wrath of his reputation; mouths starting to hang agape little by little with every step he took towards them.

‘Agent Malik?’ the shortest one questioned jolting the larger agent out of his reverie beside him.

‘Sir, are you under orders to—’

‘Beat it,’ Zayn says jutting a thumb over his shoulder. And as weak as the sentiment was; even though it was two against one, they immediately did as they were told, scrambling ungraciously over their own feet to get down the hall. ‘Don’t come back until this exact time tomorrow.’

Zayn waited until he no longer heard the shuffle of their feet before turning just time to see a small sliver of space disappear behind the automatic doors of the elevator. Suddenly nervous with the quiet that surrounded him now, Zayn turned his body to face the white metal of Harry’s apartment door, his heart picking up with the crashing and his breathing with its pacing.

_Should I knock?_

_What if he doesn’t answer?_

_What if he answers and doesn’t let me in? I don’t want to talk out here…._

_What if he’s in the washroom?_

_What if he just ignores me?_

_Fuck, what if he’s still pissed?_

_……._

_…_

_Why am I even here?_

Zayn sighed and pushed himself towards the door. It’s almost as if he could smell him through it, taste the sweet perfume of his skin. It was as if he could feel something pulling him to put his hand on the door handle. He did. The weight of it bearing down and causing the handle to turn….it was unlocked. What the fuck?

Zayn frowned and pushed the door inward to find Harry standing a few feet away from it, staring at Zayn in that incredulous way of his. It wasn’t worth a jump this time.

He glared at the vampire while jiggling the door handle for emphasis, ‘ever heard of a lock?’

Harry tilted his head, his bulk of body blocking the view into the hall of the spacious apartment behind him. ‘Ever heard of knocking?’

Zayn froze, wait. ‘You knew I’d come?’

Harry, stilled dressed in his ‘down’ clothes, moved his hands to mark the page of a large book he was holding before closing it, ‘up until about a minute ago, no.’

‘So you didn’t lock your door because….’

‘Because I don’t trust the safety of my life to such a worthless artifact; I’m a vampire, remember? I’m pretty tough to kill.’

Zayn had to look away from the green eyes he longed to stare into. They weren’t mocking per say but they were playful…yeah…he should probably leave. ‘Besides whether I did or did not put the lock on would have been irrelevant seeing as outside the door were two of V.E.C.’s finest, who you _cruelly_ scared off.’

Zayn almost snorts at the conviction in his tone as he quietly fiddles with the door handle again. He felt the eyes that traveled the side of his face and neck…like literally felt; the skin heating another 6 degrees, his heart pumping harder with acknowledgement.

‘Why are you so worried about whether or not my lock is on anyway? Is the infamous hunter starting to care about what happens to the bloodsucking vampire?’ Harry teased his voice going soft despite the roughness that was usually his voice. It caused Zayn’s face to heat again.

He looked into the eyes colored the richest pool of emerald, before stilling himself. You’d think he would have learned better than to look Harry directly in the face when they were alone. ‘You’re an asset to an investigation the V.E.C. is now undergoing, therefore, you are under the protection of scientists, hunters, and employee personnel alike.’

‘Ah,’ Harry says almost in a sarcastic lit, nodding his head as if he bought right into Zayn’s reasoning. ‘I see. Well, if you’re so concerned about the damn thing, just lock it behind you.’ He suggests before turning and striding down the brightly lit hallway and then turning right into an opening at the end.

Zayn wasn’t completely sure if that meant to leave or enter.

‘You know with your concern of locks and also your trespassing, I’m starting to think it should be the humans with restrictive access without an invite.’ Harry voices from the room he had disappeared into, and all zayn could do was sigh.

He moved, dress shoes tapping along the polished wood beneath his feet before he let the door swing close behind him. Zayn relaxed a bit without the pressure and restraint of having Harry a mere five feet away and took in the apartment visible from where he stood. Expensive it must’ve been. The room immediately to his left’s light was on, and in the corner visible from where he stood, light blue walls jutted cabinets that hung above a slab of crisp white countertop; on it a breadbox that looked distinctly like the one at Mary Ann’s. A Kitchen, then.

His eyes followed the wooden planks of the floor into the open space of the living room, where visibly comfy couches and chairs spread around about the designer rug on the floor. The giant plasma screen TV attached to the wall, unsurprisingly, off. For moment Zayn thought about taking off his jacket and hanging it in the bare coat closet on his immediate right, but he wasn’t planning to stay…

Oh, right. ‘Is that a real thing, then?’

‘I never had time to test it out.’ came the answer before Harry reappeared at the end of the hallway, hands now book free. He came to a stop just a couple inches off the center, head blocking some of the lights of the city behind the un-shaded window he stood in front of, ‘I also never pegged you as the type to linger.’

Zayn paused and then reached back to slot the lock on the door handle firmly into place. He couldn’t even tell himself why he truly felt the need to protect someone 20 times stronger the he could ever be, and yet….

Harry snorted, crossing his arms over the triangle printed on the front of his shirt. Silence became impossibly loud, and for a moment it was as if they were about to have one of those deadly duals Harry spoke about a few moons ago. Zayn refused to look away, crack with pressure, approach or speak. He just waited.

After a while of stubborn silence, horns sounding in the distance, palpable tension practically buzzing between them, Harry huffs; his face contorting into the suspicion he’d been hiding under the sarcastic mask Zayn wanted to memorize every time Harry spoke to him. ‘Why are you here, Zayn?’

Zayn blinked at the vampire as if he’d asked him to recite the Chinese alphabet. ‘I never got the chance to explain myself, for earlier and—’

‘No, I told you that you don’t have explain anything to me,’ Harry insists starting towards Zayn, who was about to protest at the thought of Harry throwing him out, but then he turned into the kitchen. ‘Whatever happened is none of my business.’

‘Well, I’m making it your business.’ Zayn counters following him into the spacious rectangle of the kitchen. ‘Do you mind? What are you doing?’ Zayn asks, craning his neck to peek around the expanse of the vampire’s back to get a good look at his actions all while maintaining his distance.

A small clang sounded before the splash of water came from the motion activated sink. ‘I’m making tea. Would you care for some?’

That would waste time, ‘no thanks I just want to—wait, you can drink tea?’

A chuckle so familiar and rich rewarded the hollows of his ears, Harry’s… ‘Yes, Zayn, I can drink tea.’ He confirms, his tanned hand testing the water temperature before moving a silver pot underneath the flowing stream, ‘I can also eat food, though I don’t believe it would satisfy my hunger. So…that’s one thing Stephanie Meyer had right about us.’

It was Zayn’s turn to chuckle now, ‘Why do you keep taking digs at Twilight?’

Harry shot him a glance over his shoulder, eyes glazing over for the briefest of seconds, ‘Habit.’

‘Care to elaborate?’

‘Nope,’ so simple.

Zayn narrows his eyes un-scathingly as Harry turned his neck the right direction. He felt his body slump a bit against the cold surface of the refrigerator door behind him as his eyes caught the swipe Harry’s hand before the water shut off. ‘Has anyone ever told you how infuriating you are?’ he grumbled eyes locking onto the line of white cabinets above the vampire’s head instead of the muscles working in his back.

Harry turned then, face anything but offended; eyebrows pushed into his hairline, lips curving up causing the pink of them to darken.

‘Funny how you stole the words right from my mouth.’ His arm effortlessly lifts the metal pot to place it on one of the large rings atop the electronic stove top, before he tucked his hands underneath his biceps. ‘Though as of late, I find you more amusing than not. Like the way you insist on involving me in your personal business. Mindboggling is a fit word.’

Oh…. ‘About that—’

‘Zayn—’

‘Shut up Harry.’ Zayn barks glaring at the vampire actually flashing his dimples at him. ‘Just let me talk to you for one second— then I’ll leave you to read your Tolstoy or whatever the fuck you do on your free time.’

Zayn actually saw it coming before it happened, ‘Oh! So it’s okay for you to talk to me, but when I try with you, you verbally abuse me and then att—’

‘ _Harry_.’ he growls

‘Shutting up,’ he promises holding his hands out in a surrenderous posture before using one to zip an invisible zipper across his lips. Fucking dork. Zayn rolled his eyes, carefully plotting his words as Harry settled back into his stance arms and ankles crossed.

‘Thomas and I went to grade school together,’ he starts on a sigh as his eyes easily gazed past the curls of Harry’s head, ‘for a while…he was my only friend outside my family members. Somehow I knew even when I was young that something was off about our relationship. We were total opposites; me poor, quiet, artistic, and then him, rich, boisterous, intellectual. But it worked we made it work and as our friendship grew older our relationship grew stronger.’

‘And when our activities—play dates—turned into shit bold enough be secluded behind the walls of my tree house, I…began to feel something akin to the look my father had in his eyes whenever my mum came home from work. At least that’s what I thought it was, because it was never really the way he touched me, the words he’d whisper to me, or the looks he gave me. It was how he made me feel with simple glances, his cheesy compliments and crooked smile. He made me feel like I thrived off him, and made me believe that he was the same way for me.’

Zayn moved his eyes finally, when they clashed with Harry’s it was almost like he could imagine just what the hell the Titanic felt when it and the iceberg collided. ‘It didn’t take me long to realized how full of shit Tom truly was. That he thrived off attention more than he did those he claimed to love. After all, out off all the people who bullied me in school…he was the biggest.’ Zayn said with a pitiful shake of his head.

‘To sum this up, I don’t want anything to do with him. Just to be clear the last time I saw him as I kid I broke his jaw and the last time I spoke with him I threatened to take his life. Do you understand now…how I feel towards him or should I tic off the laundry list of shit he’s pulled on me?’

Harry shook his head, eyes shining a bit, ‘there’s no need, I understand perfectly.’

A sigh left Zayn’s body. Relief flooded around the sickness that over came him thinking about what he and Thomas used to share. ‘Good.’

….

..

.

‘So you hunted me down….just to explain yourself. Don’t you have something better to do than to ponder over my thoughts about you?’ asks with that honest curiosity.

Zayn couldn’t help the small smile that crept unto his lips, ‘No. I also wanted to apologize for the incident in the a couple days ago. I kissed you to try to get you out of my way…and I took it too far. Can you forgive me for that as well?’

Harry sniggered as if he had heard the funniest joke ever told, ‘it’s fine Zayn, I commend you. I told you to get me out of your way, and you did. I was never upset about _that_.’

Zayn’s light glare only made his laughter more palpable, ‘Then pray tell, Mr. I’m-making-tea-but-wont-turn-on-the-stove. What got you so upset that you threatened my life?’

When all that left came of Harry was silence, it suddenly clicked. Oh, fuck. Shit, shit, shit, this was that monkey wrench Zayn thought about so bitterly during his vivid nightmares. This fixed and ruined his intentions all at once, and maybe down past the ice freezing over his insides, deep down he knew this was a good thing. ‘Oh, god, you’re homophobe. I am truly so sorry.’

Harry only fanned at hand at him, ‘No, no it’s not that. I care little about homosexuality. To be honest with you my maker flaunts off his flamboyant feminine side record times a day, and I stuck with him for almost 200 years so stop getting so worked up..... It was about the kiss though.’ Harry says turning to tap at the buttons of the stove behind him, ‘it was my first.’

To say he had just beginning to get the feeling back in his stomach, it really shouldn’t have evaporated so quickly once more. Christ, he had done the same thing he had yelled at Thomas for doing just minutes afterwards. Great, now fate was calling him a hypocrite, ‘shit, had I known that, I wouldn’t have Harry…believe me.’

‘It’s already forgiven, Zayn. Stop sulking.’

…

..

.

Zayn fidgeted his fingers before lifting his eyes towards the broad of his shoulders as small electrical beeps filled the air of the kitchen ‘so almost 200 years and you haven’t snogged anyone? Surely you see the way people look at you…’ the way I look at you.

Harry sighed a laugh and shot Zayn another one of those knowing glances, ‘Guess it’s my turn for story time, then?’ he concludes moving away from the stove; sliding down the bar of the counter until he was directly parallel to Zayn. He holds up a finger, ‘firstly, I never said I was a virgin, I’m not that strong. Secondly, you shouldn’t look at me that way; blame my mother like I do.’

‘Fine,’ Zayn says schooling his face.

He sighed placing his hands against the curve of the counter’s edge, ‘growing up in the 1800’s is just as you would perceive it: boring. With all the focus of town being on the government and social life, there wasn’t really any excitement for me back then when I was 18 and energetic. With my father being the Governor of our town, he was barely home and whenever he was the time the three of us spent together was strained by his work efforts and his notable drinking habits.’

‘My father was a pig; worthless. And since my mother was twice the man he could have ever been despite her sex, she raised me with the help of the house maids assigned to the Governor’s mansion. After I lost my virginity to one of my tailors, I became a bit promiscuous. My mother always saw sex as something to be cherished between husband and wife, but she believed a shared kiss stood for a seal of soul, heart, and body. She told me to make sure it meant something when I gave it away.’

Zayn felt Harry’s eyes tracing skin of his collarbone as if the feel of his eyes were a legit caress through the cotton of his shirt. ‘Its not that agree or disagree with her beliefs, I just simply chose to follow them. Y’know since she was my mother and all. Every single one of those girls meant nothing to me, so I never gave it to anyone, until you.’ He admits, ‘but I nearly came close once, complete accident. I bit their lip,’ he points, tapping the plump of his bottom lip, ‘right here.’

And why he had followed Harry’s finger was a complete mystery. So was what the fuck possessed him to start speaking the first thing that came to mind, ‘our kiss…did you enjoy it?’

What was he doing?

But Harry didn’t seem phased, his head simply tilting in that way that was becoming far too familiar, ‘I kissed you back didn’t I?’

Time to go, Zayn kicked into movement pushing himself off the door of the fridge, ‘Good to hear. Look, I have to go. I’ll see you when I see you, yeah?’ He says legs leading him to turn out of the kitchen but Harry’s voice, slow and deep stops him in his tracks.

‘Why is it every time we get somewhere decent, one of us bolts for the nearest exit?’ Zayn turned on his heel to see the vampire blinking at him slowly.

‘I don’t trust myself, Harry.’ he sighs, ‘I’ve already gone too far.’

‘i don't follow.’

Damn it. ‘You don’t feel this?’ Zayn demands as he strides up to the vampire, stopping so their chests were a pinky’s length away from touching.

‘Feel what?’ Harry drawls eyes flitting over the plains of his face. And Zayn moved in close then, so close he could see the faint whiteness around the edges of  green flakes in Harry’s magnificent eyes, ‘This between us. It’s like even when we’re _this_ close….it’s still fucking not enough.’

Zayn caught how the trim of Harry’s eyebrows began to push together; forming that dent inbetween Zayn had obsessed over on early mornings with his dick in his hand. Harry blinked at Zayn now as if the solution were as clear as the water beginning to boil beside them on the stove. ‘Then do something about it.’

He did.

Surging forward to capture the lips pink like the petals of Japanese cherry blossoms and smoother than polished steel, Zayn moaned into the hot mouth opening against his own. A mouth he potentially craved more than anything else. And as their tongues tangled in that familiar dominant battle, he knew there was no turning back now. His thoughts were coherently short enough to release one last plea.

_Forgive me, Perrie._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darn, just when it was getting good. So this is cut off yet again because it would far too long to put the the nuaghty stuff there. Anywho, that will come in the next chapter which will be up as soon as I’m finished with it. Shal’nt (is this a word?) be long. Thank you guest and users for reading and giving me kudos. I want to also thank my inspirational commentary from Mccutie22, outintheworld, and Princess. you guy’s comments always make it fun for me to write the next chapter. Your enthusiasm is much appreciated. To others don’t be afraid to write a comment or two, criticism, praise, pish posh. I like talking to strangers despite how I was raised lol. Happy belated holiday’s people. Xxoxxo  
> -S


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continued…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um...so warning.

_Is this real?_

It’s hard to tell… after everything Harry has put him through. What with the late nights and early mornings of cold showers, blue balls, and fucking wet dreams. He’s felt what he thought were the real fingers of the vampire over his skin, in his hair, and inside his body, but it had been so long since he actually touched Harry that he’d forgotten.

He lost just how hot his skin was, just how fast his heartbeats came, just how sweet he smelled, and just how powerless he was to whatever was between the two of them as well.

Zayn could doubt it all he wanted but there was no ignoring it this time, the actual heat of the water boiling beside them, the furnace of Harry’s gifted mouth on his, the heat rolling off of Harry’s body into his shivering form as it pressed him against the sharp edge of the counter. It dug into the small of his back and when they had spun for that to happen would float away with the stream of mystery with all the literal fucks Zayn could give about it.

The skin underneath Harry’s palms tightened painfully as he held Zayn firmly into place. Zayn pulls back an inch and slowly opens his eyes. Harry towered a couple inches over him, eyes shut delicately, breathing deep, lips parted in the most seductive way.

Zayn’s throat closed as Harry’s tongue came out to swipe at the lips, coating them with saliva so clear the reflection of the kitchen lights shone on it. He could have cried at how perfect Harry was, what it felt like to be in his arms again, to be breathing his air so intimately.

Zayn dragged a shaky hand up the side of Harry’s warm neck, over his jackrabbit hammering of heartbeats, across his defined jaw line, then to the soft skin of his tanned cheeks; thumb brushing gently where a dimple would be, coaxing him to open his eyes.

When the lids pulled back to reveal them, Zayn’s resolve almost crashed with the haywire haphazardness that was his train thought. He lost to the pull of Harry’s eyes so close, mercurial, shining and deep. He’d bet his life they beat out the rivals of the sun, moon, and the combustion of every fucking universe.

‘Is this real?’ he whispers, silently pleading for the answer but terrified of the outcome.

The dent appeared between his eyebrows again as he looked Zayn over. He could probably place about two of the emotions that passed over Harry’s face that second. His head tilted and his eyes softened impossibly further as they trailed back down to the swell of Zayn’s lips.

Zayn’s eyelids dropped easily when Harry leaned in to cover his mouth with his own, moaning when his lover’s warm tongue danced elegantly across the seam of his lips. Zayn let his weightless hand, once balled in the front of Harry’s shirt, heed to the pressure tugging it up their torsos and opened his eyes when Harry pulled away again.

He delicately placed it to the other side of his cheek, covering it with his own and rubbing his face into the touch like a cat would. The vampire caressed his hand, massaging, and soothing, before he pressed gentle pecks to the tips of each digit, and then to the center of his palm and it’s so sweet and tender and…Zayn never knew he could be so jealous of his own damn hand.

Suddenly that rage he felt the first day in the lab when the scientist had examined Harry began to rear its ass, and Zayn was at least 95% sure that had this not been his hand…. he would have stabbed it by now. But Zayn was so focused on mentally tearing his hand a new one, that he almost missed the fangs starting to elongate inside Harry’s mouth.

Zayn may have halted but to his credit it was probably 3 seconds. With how much he had forgotten clearly it hadn’t crossed his mind in a while that Harry was the most powerful vampires the V.E.C. has ever come into contact with.

He could murder Zayn any moment and _disperse of evidence_ like usual, but Harry wasn’t attacking. He hadn’t snarled or grimaced at Zayn in anyway he just replaced his hands to the slants of his hips and….waited.

His hands left to rest on the sides of the vampires face moved then; the fingers glided over the warm skin, trailed over the dips and angles, before tracing around the curves of his lips. His right thumb dropped then, sliding over the bone of Harry’s teeth until it brushed over the smooth end of the sharp fang.

It was almost as if he heard the puncture before he felt it, saw the blood gather between his thumb and Harry’s fang before dripping off into the pillow of his tongue. Harry’s eyelids shivered as they shut in what was ultimately satisfaction, and Zayn was still here… When he blinked he wasn’t at home on his awful couch, and he didn’t jerk awake at the prick which--

Harry’s lips closed around the tip of his thumb, the heat of his mouth covering it in a way that had him feeling the vibrations of Harry’s satisfactory moan through it. Zayn could feel the rough of his warm tongue lapping and prodding at the wound on his this thumb and he froze….probably reacting to the way Zayn’s breath rushed out of his mouth.

Harry’s eyes shot open, lips parted revealing the blood staining his teeth and tongue. Zayn watched a meager stream of blood spill down his saliva soaked thumb before pooling onto Harry’s lip and then dribbling down the side of his chin and…this was real.

Zayn lunged for him; teeth gnashing and scraping in his haste. The fact that he could taste the coppery tang of his own blood on the bumps of Harry’s tastebuds lit his nerve endings ablaze; sent him into frenzy like a shark would be. He attacked Harry’s mouth that had gone surprisingly pliant under his, taking whatever Zayn threw at him, but giving all the same.

That’s how it was for a while, the two of them battling, soothing, biting, rubbing and licking until one of them got a particularly satisfying moan out of the other and Harry was far too good at it. For someone who said they had never been kissed before, he sure knew exactly how to angle his tongue, when to slant his head, and use his teeth to the point where Zayn wanted to rip out his precious— _precious_ —raven coloured hair.

And he was getting restless, because not that he didn’t love swapping spit with his lover, it was just Harry kissed him like he had all the time in the world to do just that.

Well apparently he did, but Zayn over here wasn’t getting any younger. He wanted more, and he could feel that he wasn’t alone. Zayn sent a groan of detest to Harry for moving his hips away with a chuckle after he’d attempted to ground his hips into the stiffness growing against his thigh.

Zayn rips his mouth away to glare into the shining eyes of the vampire. ‘Harry.’ he growls, his back digging into the countertop edge.

‘Yes, Zayn?’ and it’s so playful, that he has to.

Zayn pulls Harry until their hips were flush together, chests connected, and legs intertwined. He closes his lips around the curve of Harry’s earlobe staying there till he goes breathy and limp in his arms. ‘I want you Harry.’ he whispers hotly. ‘I want you inside me. Now.’

When the answering jerk of a nod came, he was satisfied enough with the amount of force Harry put into the kiss they started up. The warm hands around his waist lifted him, and suddenly he could feel the cold surface of the countertop through the material of his trousers.

Zayn was so caught up in trying to match the vigor that was Harry’s mouth that he almost missed the defined _Rip!_ that disturbed the kitchen air; he felt the remains of trousers fall to the side of his legs.

Zayn’s thighs shook with the shivers that raked his body both from the strength Harry displayed and the cold air hitting his newly exposed skin. His dick jerked with renewed freedom; it stood on end, head staining a dark patch on his grey boxers with its precome. Harry’s fingers curled into the band of his boxers before yanking it; causing a crisp tear to disrupt the air again before the distinct sound of the cloth dropping onto the floor followed.    

Before Zayn could think to pick up his participation in the forgotten kiss, he loses his breath. ‘Fuck,’ he spits as the large warm hand that had closed around his length began to spread the precome around the tip.  

And somewhere in there his hand had moved to massage Harry’s dick through his jeans and—

‘What do I do, Zayn?’ Harry pants against his mouth, ‘Tell me what to do.’

It takes him a minute, but Zayn responds. He pecks the lush of Harry’s pink lips before reaching down to grab one of Harry’s hands from his hips. Careful to keep eye contact, Zayn drags the hand to his lips before expertly closing his mouth around two of his long fingers; sucking and lapping at them until Harry’s eyes were the size of dinner plates.

When the vampire looked as if he were going to pass out any second now, Zayn quit it with the obscene way he twirled his tongue around Harry’s fingers and moved the large hand between his thighs. Just when the fingers began to brush the outside of his opening, Harry pulled back causing Zayn to whine.

‘Wait,’ he says, eyes latching longingly onto Zayn’s pliant form, ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ He sucked in a large breath and shook his head, pulling his hand further away, ‘I can’t do that.’

Zayn rose, relieving the pressure of his upper body weight from his arms, to place a careful kiss to Harry’s lips. ‘Relax. You aren’t going to hurt me.’ he said pulling his hand back before guiding the spit soaked fingers inside of him. ‘See?’ he says before moaning at the intrusion and promptly grinding his ass against Harry’s hand.

‘spread your fingers, baby,’ Zayn soothes on a moan and lets his head tip back against the cabinets when Harry follows his orders, ‘Just like that.’

Fighting against the weight of his head, Zayn looks down into green eyes almost completely overtaken by black, ‘I f-finger fucked myself before I came up here.’ Zayn admits, the feeling of the employee passkey searing hot through his jacket pocket. ‘Couldn’t bear to see you had I-I not gotten off. Oh, fuck!’

Zayn jerked against the feeling of Harry’s fingers curling inside him, brushing almost knowingly against his prostate, ‘I came shouting your name, Harry. Your face is the only w-way I can get off, shit. I need you. I’m already open.’

Harry didn’t waste time then, his fingers out of Zayn and in his hair with a quickness that had Zayn’s opening clutching at air. Zayn’s mouth bit against the lips attacking his own, the kiss powered by need, and the unrequited lust they’d ignored for to long. Zayn made fast work of Harry’s zipper, and delved in to wrap his fingers around Harry’s engorged dick and pulling it out.

The sound of Harry’s moans were enough to deter him from his goal and lead him stroke along Harry’s sex since it appeared the vampires enjoyment was enough to get him off, but then the sharp nips down his throat were causing him to jerk, and Harry’s moaning became softer with every stroke and…it was getting him all worked up.

Harry pulled Zayn’s hips to him, causing his legs to widen in the process. And Zayn got the message. He scraped his thumbnail along the slit of Harry’s dick just to watch his legs give out before guiding the slickened head to circle around his opening. Harry lips went lax then, breathing choppy and lids fluttering.

‘Shit.’ He breathes, his head bending to watch Zayn push him past the first rings of muscles. He gasped at the way Zayn’s body immediately began to suck him in, and pulled Zayn until he was ball deep in him.

Zayn could smell the steam of the boiling water over the sex, he could hear the lights of the kitchen as if they were buzzing rather than humming as well as the sound of the refrigerator powering up the cool the box over the sounds of their shaky breathing and broken moans. He could feel Harry mouthing soundless words against the side of his neck, and Zayn was restless. His legs brushing against the back of Harry’s, his hands pulling Harry’s shirt up his back.

The heat of Harry’s cock inside his ass was driving him over the edge, ‘I need you to move, Harry.’ he gasps against the shell of Harry’s exposed ear. ‘Please.’

Perhaps he should beg more often, because when Harry relented it was well worth the wait. He dragged his hips away before slamming back into him in a way that had him grateful that he’d dismissed the agents. His yelp of delight deafening to his own ears.

Harry shimmed his hips, pulling out until the tip remained before plunging back in, and repeating and repeating, and repeating, and--- all Zayn had in him was to hold on, mind the blows to his head since Harry’s powerful thrust sent it knocking against the doors of the cabinets above him and bite his lips to keep down his moans when Harry’s dick jabbed at the bundle of nerves inside of him and—this was going to end quickly.

Zayn’s head bounced around on his neck, skin heating with every huff of breath Harry panted against it. His shaky hands latched onto the black shirt covering Harry’s chest before ripping at it, the tear clear in over the sound of their hips meeting. He smiled dopily at the large tear down the middle of it, and moaned when Harry bit his neck sharply.

‘I liked that shirt,’ he rasps, hips pounding faster and Zayn was trying to keep his shit.

He tore the black shirt until the rip reached the bottom, and he could run his hands over the baby soft skin of Harry’s torso.

‘Fuck the shirt. I’ll buy you a new one.’ He says successfully clear until Harry’s wrapping a hand around his dick and matching his hand with his thrust and—‘Jesus, Harry.’

Nothing he says after that is smart enough to be understood; just broken versions of Harry’s name, colorful words and moans that became more animal-like with each stroke. And suddenly something’s happening behind the heat blossoming in his stomach, the lights are becoming brighter, and his voice his going up to octaves he would deny afterwards.

He looks to the boiling water nearly an inch from the bottom now, his pants torn around his legs, Harry’s chest and stomach working as he continuously pounds into Zayn, but it’s his face that does it. The pretty, innocent face he saw that first day on Liam’s computer was now scrunched, brows beaded with exhaust, lips red and distended, fangs growing longer by the second and—

He’s coming long ropes of semen across the tanned torso of his lover; his body seizing and his scream silent. Through the fuzziness of his brain and the blood rushing around his eardrums, he hears the moan tear itself from Harry’s silent mouth and then pumps out a weak puddle of come at Harry’s dick shooting loads of it inside of him.

 

****

 

When Zayn opened his eyes his eyes, they landed on a beige couch angled perfectly in the corner of the room; his jacket thrown carelessly on the edge. The room was dark and cool; he was comfortable, swaddled in covers but not too hot. He was content. Zayn stretched his legs out, trying to gain his conscious thoughts form the pulls of sleep he really needed.

How did I get here?

Zayn began to shift around, trying his hand at detangling his legs from the sheet around him, before jerking back into place when he put too much pressure on his bum. Right. Of course, it was going to be sore, after Harry made sure it became friends with the kitchen counter, the hallway wall, the bedroom floor, and then finally the bed. He sighed kicking himself mentally; he should have known thinking about that shit would get his dick worked up again.

Damn Harry.

Zayn was certain his body was shivering slightly at the missing body heat he was familiar with, so he couldn’t be near. Zayn turned onto his other side, hand reaching out to trace the crease Harry’s body left in the sheets. It was still warm.

‘You’re a terrible actor,’ the voice came, and those cheesy shivers followed. Zayn turned his neck to the end of the bed to spot Harry’s back. He was standing outside the balcony of the room; body clothed only in the hotel robe tied loosely around his waist, and his frame looming. His curls blew slightly in the wind hitting his face.

Zayn pulled himself up onto his elbows, ‘who said I was acting?’

‘well, it’s just; you’re usually the first to make sure I come to you when get turned on.’ He starts causally back still to him, ‘I can smell it from here and you haven’t said anything. I found it strange and presumed you were acting.’

‘No,’ Zayn says remembering how he would grab at Harry as soon as he dick began to get hard in the past hours, he knew him so well already, ‘just enjoying the view.’

Harry shoots a glance over his shoulder before turning back into he dim light of the sky.

‘what are you doing?’ Zayn asks pulling the covers from his legs.

‘Street gazing.’ Came the answer and Zayn felt a jolt pass through him. Was he hungry? Zayn lifted himself off the bed, and stood to gain his footing before walking up stark naked to the vampire’s back. ‘It’s funny how much people look like ants from a distance.’

Zayn lifts his hands to pull the shoulders of the robe down before placing a sweet kiss to the muscle there. ‘I used to think the same thing.’

Harry turns then eyes soft and face softer. Zayn couldn’t resist the urge to kiss the pout of his pink lips, before reaching down to untie the knot of Harry’s robe. ‘come back to bed.’ He whispers against his lover’s mouth, pulling him until the back of Zayn’s legs hit the edge of the bed.

Zayn pulled himself further up as Harry crawled to hover above him, lips coming easily towards his own. Zayn’s fingers pushed the gaping robe off Harry’s wide shoulders before cocking his leg over the vampire’s hip. The kiss easy, languid, passionate, but slow. He could feel Harry’s cock filling up on his abdomen and _God_ he wanted it.

Zayn’s hands trailed down the length of Harry’s back, kneading at the dips in his spine, before reaching down to massage the globes of his healthy ass cheeks. Harry giggled against his lips and Zayn couldn’t help but do the same. The sound so strange coming from such a huge bloke.

‘What?'

Harry just hums, lips pecking around on his face. ‘Nothing.’

‘You’ve never been touched here?’ he asks grabbing at his ass cheek again causing another giggle to release it.

‘No,’ he says smiling into Zayn face.

Zayn grinding his hips up into Harry’s causing the vampire to groan in ecstasy, ‘are you willing?’

Harry falters, eyes closed and lips parted, ‘what?’

‘Are you willing to let me touch you,’ Zayn continues, hands massaging his ass before he lets a finger slide down the crack of it. ‘Here? Let me be your first, I’ll have you begging for it, babe.’ He promises against the side of Harry’s neck while his finger rubs at the furl of his tight hole.

He bites down in a way he knows will make Harry lose his shit and adds pressure to the finger rubbing at Harry’s tender opening, ‘Can I be your first?’

Harry opens his eyes, teeth knowing at his lips, before he nods in the childlike manner he has. ‘Good.’ Zayn says moving his hand to tangle in the curls atop Harry’s head as he kisses him dizzy, ‘now...’

He flips them over and climbs into Harry’s lap. He taps a finger against his lips smiling when Harry immediately sat up and caught his lips in a passionate kiss. ‘are you thirsty?’ he asks pulling back to look into Harry’s dazed green eyes.

He blinked as if the question had just then reached his ears, ‘Um, n— not deathly thirsty. Liam took me to a feeder yesterday I should be set for—mmph.’

Zayn pulled him in for a bruising kiss, before ripping his mouth away, ‘Don’t ever do that again. From now on if you’re hungry come to me.’

Harry’s eyes danced over his face before he nodded once more, ‘Okay, okay yeah.’

Zayn nods back, blood still set in a boil at some other bitch’s blood keeping Harry’s body strong. He couldn’t have it. Zayn sat on his knees, and pulls Harry’s face to the side of his neck, ‘Drink.’

It was an order and it didn’t appear that Harry was about to complain too much about it. He could feel the fangs already, they scraped along the skin of his neck and—

‘It’s going to hurt, Zayn.’

Zayn merely rolls his eyes, ‘I figured. Just bite me before I bite you.’

And there’s that chuckle he loved so damn much, Harry kissed at the spot he chose on his neck before pulling back and sinking his teeth in.

Zayn jerked automatically, hands grabbing for purchase on the broad shoulders of the vampire. The pain was gone the second it came replaced instead by pleasure. Harry moaned and gulped down as much as his throat allowed while Zayn tried not to sound like the bloodslave he was ultimately becoming. The endorphins had his mind gone, along with the swipe of Harry’s precise tongue, and the suckle of his mouth.

His dick stood painfully erect, begging for attention in response to just what the fuck Harry was doing to him, mentally and physically. ‘Yes,’ he breathes when Harry’s fingers came around his wobbling thighs and began to prod at his waiting opening. It’s a chant with how Harry moves his other one to smooth over his cock.

Zayn ground his ass back onto the fingers scissoring his hole, while fucking into the tight circle of Harry’s fist. ‘yes, yes, fuck yes!’

Harry pulled away, his tongue coming out to swipe over his neck before kissing Zayn quiet. He pushed Zayn onto his back, causing his head to bounce of the end of the bed, before sliding his dick into him and there was that silent scream again. He felt the fangs sink into the side of his neck again, and felt pride at being Harry’s fix. He drank feverishly from his neck, moaning, and grunting with every thrust he pushed, and ‘Zayn,’ he muffled.

Harry could only be like that with him, say his name because of his blood and his body and— mine, mine, mine, mine, ‘Mine.’ He growls, scratching bloodless line down Harry’s back.  

The vampire froze, hips slowing to a halt, as he retracted his fangs and licked over Zayn’s neck. Zayn felt the punctures close a second after that and turned his head to whine in Harry’s ear. Harry lifted his weight onto his arms and gave Zayn that curious look, dent and all. ‘Mine?’

Zayn bit his lip, moving his legs to tangle between Harry’s. when he plants his feet on the cushioned bed, he pushed his hips up to emphasize his point. ‘Yours.’ He says slowly fucking himself on Harry’s dick.

And the moan that leaves Harry’s mouth is surprised, pleased, and pained at once. His hands shoot down to stop Zayn’s ministrations, ‘shit, you’re gonna make me come Zayn.’ he says against the side of his head. ‘just give me a minute.’

When the room was no longer full of labored breathing and pleasurable moans, Zayn turned his head to look at Harry, who lifted his head from Zayn’s neck and gave into the attention gazing back at Zayn. something began to pull at the renewed steadiness of his heartbeats because suddenly something about staring into Harry’s eyes made his eyes start to water.

Harry’s hands came up to interlock their fingers while his lips moved to cover his once more. The kiss, tender, firm, and passionate at once. he trailed kisses down Zayn’s throat before turning onto his back, and pulling Zayn into another sweet kiss.

Zayn smiled against his lips before sitting up settling. He settle his free hand on the muscle of Harry’s torso as the vampire brought his free hand up to his hip, supporting him when Zayn began to move in small bounces.

They moaned in unison, eyes shutting with renewal. Zayn pulled their intertwined finger to his lips, before pulling his finger apart just to place the warm hand to his cheek.

And he hadn’t a clue what was happening between them, why he felt like tearing up, why the sex was so different than the other times, why it was so imperative that he kiss tenderly at the palm of Harry’s hand, why they kept gazing at one another like it was only the two of them in the world, but it was just that. Nothing matter right then because they belonged to one another, and as the hand on his hips found his dick, Zayn decided that was okay.

So he ground against Harry’s sex driving both of them closer, until he could milk the cum from Harry’s dick again.

****

The next time he opened his eyes he was….uncomfortable. his skin scratchy and body hot. He opened his eyes to see the ceiling of Harry’s bedroom lit by the early morning sun. how long was he out?

‘Y’know, one of the reasons why I loved being raised by my mother is because I hated my father.’

Zayn turned his neck to find Harry, fully dressed, perched on the end of the sofa in the corner. ‘he never understood me, never tried. He just drank and cared little about my mother and I.’ he continues, rolling something flat and rectangular around in his hands.

‘I got over him not giving a shit about me before he could drunkenly spit it towards my mother, but I think the main reason I hated him was because of what he did to her.’

Zayn sat up, rubbing at his eyes before realizing that his was fully dressed in clothes that weren’t his. His were torn to bits if he recalled. He looked back up into the eyes burning a hole in his face. ‘I still used to pity myself for not being as strong willed as he, bash myself for being almost nothing like him. and it’s funny that I gained the only trait that caused me to loathe his existence.’

‘Harry?’

‘My father fucked every slut that walked the streets of England and I damn near did the same. I hated myself for that, but I made a promise that I’d never become anything like him. Funny how promises don’t exist, yeah?’

‘Harry?’ Zayn repeats slowly, watching the vampire get more and more upset. ‘What are you getting at?’

Harry holds up the rectangular object in his hands and glared at him, ‘Perrie called.’

Oh…shit.

‘She was wondering where her darling fiancé was at this time of day. Why he hadn’t called and told her that he wouldn’t be home on time, she wouldn’t have made anniversary dinner.’ He says voice going sickly sweet and acidicly venomous at once.

‘Wait I—’

‘You’re engaged, Zayn!’ Harry yells blatantly as he shots out of the couch. ‘And you still slept with me. Do you know how it feels to be on the receiving end of this shit?’

Zayn was almost certain that had Harry not taken the calming breath he did before looking at him again, he would have gotten something torn from his body, ‘it broke her when she figured it out, it broke her when she found out I knew. I know the betrayal. What the fuck made you think I would want to be apart something like this?’ He demands, eyes blazing and skin utterly pale.

And there was so much to say and so much he couldn’t. How does he respond? What the hell did Harry say to Perrie? What was he supposed to do now? How could he forget his own damn anniversary? He needed Harry to stop being mad at him, shit.

‘I can’t do this, I promised myself I wouldn’t cause the pain my father did my mother.’ Harry whispered eyes dropping and the way they dulled broke Zayn’s heart to bits. He fucking did that to him. ‘I can’t hurt you either, so leave.’

He said tossing the phone onto the bed near his feet where Zayn sat frozen, silent, confused….and shameful. ‘I’m serious Zayn. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back,’ he growls turning to walk out onto the balcony. ‘Now! Please just go.’

And Zayn wanted to refuse him, he wanted to force harry to look at him and demand his forgiveness. He wanted Harry back, but he didn’t want to hurt him either. It mindfucked him that the simplicity of his presence brought hurt to someone he simply wanted to pleasure. He deserves this.

Zayn stood, gave harry one last glance before reaching to get his phone and shuffling out of the bedroom door. He walked down the hallway, body drowning in clothes far too big for his size and exited the apartment. When the door closed behind him, he turned to face it. The locks slid soundly in place and he wanted back in.

He was so fucking stupid.

His fist flew into the drywall beside the door and his breathing picked up in that mortifying way he’s used to. The urge to tear at his hair was far too immense to resist.

Zayn slid down the side of the wall clutching his numb hand to his chest. ‘What the fuck have I done?’

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it always seems so long when im writing it. so, poor Zaynie, as soon as he gets somewhere good with Hazza fate fucks him over right? thank you for reading and giving me kudos and also thank you to Mccutie22, outintheworld, ChrissyC, and zarry3 (Jeri_1116) fro commenting support and thoughts. i've finished this just in time for you guys. hope you liked it! .xxx


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> revelations and more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'mmmmm Baaaaccck and as annoying as ever.

Moral dilemma: Zayn feels.

Since that rainy Saturday night 13 years ago he’s actually feeling something other than the anger he’s aimed towards the heavens for his misfortunate life. Other than the gratitude and respect he’s reserved for Liam and Mary Ann. The fond annoyance he’s felt for Erik. The love Zayn was sure he felt for Perrie. The hatred he kept reticent for vampires. The fear of waking up to the swirling orbs of colour over him at night, the fear, buried deep inside him, of being alone at the end of everything because of how little he’s let himself feel.

So yeah, he’s always felt something.

But now he _felt_. He felt, for the first time in ages, emotions that sent his blood thundering against the walls of his eardrums; emotions far from innocuous things to be blamed on the influence of pop-able medication.

As he sat there, choppy breath and back flush against the plane of the pristine hall walls of Fraser Place, Zayn felt…dread.

The kind of dread that could be associated with the emotions he felt the night Liam saved him from that rogue vampire.

The horror and trepidation he felt then, as he stared into the smug look of satisfaction the vampire wore when he spotted Zayn, now coursing through Zayn’s veins like a wildfire.

The helplessness he felt then, watching as the vampire tore his teeth from his victim’s neck, was now sending his heart into a rhythm similar to that of the beats of an African drum.

The vague disbelief of the very occurrence, since at that time Zayn had resigned himself to thinking he had only hallucinated seeing anything out of the ordinary the night of the fire. It was real enough to be present with him now, because it all came back. And it fit everything he felt then with a breadths amount of intensity as he tried his best to focus on anything other than Harry’s room door next to him.

Harry…

Zayn was pretty sure what Harry had meant about hurting him if he stayed was pretty fucking literal. Had he stayed there he might lost a couple of limbs; maybe his life was more of a proper accuracy. Zayn had this ‘give ‘em hell’ attitude for far too long not to _NOT_ want to care about what he’s done to get what he wants. But it hurt. It truly fucking hurt looking at Harry go all glassy eyed, sharp teeth with sharper tongue.

It the same way the last time Harry lashed out at him, only now was worse. He’d violated his own rules and disregarded any thoughts about consequences for both of the parties involved. He hurt him, and now the anguish swelling through the tunnels of his bowels threatened to spill upward. It reminded him of the loss he felt watching the firemen carry out body after body of his family members burnt to unrecognizable crisps.

A vast and dubious comparison seeing how diverse and alike the situations appeared to be; disappointing a vampire and losing his family. The pain was enough though. It was like one of those electrical jolts that come with realization. Those hard moments when reality becomes all too real. The curve ball and the kick to the groin he thought he’d be used to by now.

It was enough to get him to his feet, push his legs down the hall and into the lift where he would swear to himself no more. No more bullshitting. He had a fucking job to do and since he’s survived countless near death experiences in order to keep doing it, he bloody well was going to.

It was enough to have him settle on dealing with Harry and Perrie later. But it was also enough to send him speeding towards his secluded and flat where he would scrub his body down until his skin was red in raw just— just to contradict his mind from begging his body to wallow in the smell of Harry all over, inside, and around him.

Had he wanted to keep the brunt of the guilt brewing inside of him, he would have just drove back to Bradford and stared at the open field of browning grass where his childhood home used to stand.

If you could guess, he really didn’t fucking need that.

<><>><<><> 

Thomas Pfaff is a smart cookie. Growing up next to him, Zayn knew he could be reading a five hundred page book he’ll get around to finishing in a couple days while Thomas would be done with it in the next couple of hours.

Tom always knew the right things to say to everything and the wrong things at the right time. He’d spent ace amounts of time digging underneath the pores of Zayn’s skin and used his knowledge to get what he wanted out of him every time. He is conniving, malicious, and smug enough catch an ass whooping from the calmest of blokes.

He always knew what he was doing, so present Zayn knew—just like he knew back then.

Thomas wasn’t stupid.

What happened in the janitor closet yesterday would be enough of a signal. Zayn would no longer regard his threats with the fear of losing his job. He could give five fucks to whatever Thomas would try to do to him after the shit he pulled. In fact Zayn was certain that after the incident yesterday Thomas wouldn’t even try to approach him for anything so…

Zayn was going to do whatever the fuck he wanted.

That’s exactly what he did. After he set his mind he walked into V.E.C. Headquarters, Zayn headed straight for training barracks. When he pushed open the double doors he was met with the sight of 9 of his trainee’s lounging about, some on the combat mat, others perched against walls or lying on the wooden floor; damp towels draped carelessly over their shoulders, chests heaving slightly from the training exercises they must have started without him.

They all immediately stood when they saw him; bodies going rigid straight like a soldier’s would in the presence their commander. It was enough to make Zayn stop and give them an amused look.

‘At ease,’ he teased starting back on his trek towards the lockers. But the rookies were having none of that.

‘Sir, we didn’t think you were coming in today…’ since he’d been absent for what two weeks worth of training?

Another spoke up, ‘we just finished combat exercises on each other, if you’d like we can show how much we’ve improved, sir.’

Zayn’s foot stopped short on dark crack in the wooden floorboards, ‘no.’

He turned on the balls of his feet to face them, more than half of them looking as if he were about to yell at them; shoulders squaring, faces squinting as if bracing for an impending impact. Something inside of him broke a little at the fear that they must have of him, but he’s been absolute shit to these kids, so who could really blame them.

‘Why don’t you lot take a couple days off from training?’

…..

Meh?

That was an actual noise one or two of them made, faces morphing from determination and weariness to confusion and utter shock. Some of them appeared to be stopping themselves from vomiting.

‘Sir?’

Zayn pointed a small genuine smile at the lot only worsening their disbelief. The gent who spoke eyes widened tenfold. ‘Yeah, it’s only fair right. I’m sure the other trainers have taken to grilling combat sessions into you rooks, but it was my job in the first place. If I can take a couple days off, so can you.’

‘Uhhh—’

‘I give you permission to do as you like for the next three days. If you wish to continue to train with the commanders present today, then as you were. Just know I wont be apart of it. See ya around, yeah?’ Zayn waved before moving on towards the locker room.

It smelled of stale scented hydrogen, bar soap and gym socks. The concrete of the floor wet from the spray of shower heads continuing to shallowly leak from earlier use. Zayn turned into the office at the far end of the hall and retrieved his gun belt from a tooth of the wooden coat hook plastered to the side of the wall.

It was armed with his gun, a stun, poison daggers, three vials of dead blood, handcuffs and the twin of the jackknife he always kept on him. Exactly what he was planning on doing with all of this when he got where he wanted to go….he wasn’t really sure.

<><>><<><> 

It’s almost always surreal to Zayn whenever he walks into the scientific corner of V.E.C. headquarters. Always takes him a minute to tell himself not to stare around at the crisp white ivory of the floor below and the ceiling above.

But Zayn didn’t have time to gawk at the scientists gawking back at him, no, he moved towards the first scientist willing to come his way. Albeit via distraction; the short middle aged man so engrossed in the papers he held inches from his face nearly walked right over Zayn.

The scientist mewled a bit when his nose made brutal contact with Zayn’s sternum. Zayn held fast to his shoulder when the skinny man ricocheted and almost crumbled to the floor. ‘You alright?’

Pretty topaz eyes greeted Zayn’s own behind thin coal rimmed bifocals when the man looked up to lock their gazes. The fringe of his strawberry blonde hair spilled over his brow line as he straightened and gave an easy smile.

‘My nose has certainly had better days, but that was my own fault.’ He pushed back a couple steps to readjust the slightly crimpled papers in his hands. ‘Thank you for your concern though.’

Zayn nodded for good measure, a bit desperate to move on, ‘no problem. I, uh, I need to ask you something.’ He said focusing on the man blatantly staring back at him now.

‘Yeah I had a feeling someone with your rank wouldn’t be down here just to catch a klutz when they’re in action.’ He says, smile a little weary now. ‘What can I do you for?’

‘Not too long ago, a Hispanic vampire was brought here. Her name’s Veronica. I need you to take me to her.’

A nervous laugh bubbled from the scientist’s throat then, ‘well infamous vampire hunter, Zayn Malik, I have to tell you. If I wasn’t certain I had taken the appropriate dosage of Adderall I would swear I was looking right at her.’ He chuckles only stopping short at the fierceness in Zayn’s bitch face.

‘Not that you look like a girl or anything, God no, it’s just that you have similar bone structure and skin tone—and mate I’m not saying you’d look bad as a bird, either it’s just— I keep offending you eh? I’m sorry I can’t seem to hinge my jaw—’

‘‘s okay,’ Zayn murmured, glare starting to wilt.

‘—don’t take the Adderall comment too serious either, I mean I have ADHD! I can’t help it if I’m a little–’

‘Can we move on please?’ Zayn pleads wanting desperately for this conversation to be over.

‘Hey!’ the scientist calls suddenly, ‘didn’t the Board, like, ban you from this entire case or summat?’

Zayn fixed him with an earnest look, ‘Do I look like I give a shit?’ he asks causing the strawberry blonde to pause and look him over as if he were seriously contemplating the other man’s answer.

Then suddenly.

‘Nope.’

Zayn raised a brow, ‘you know where she is?’

‘Yes.’

Good. ‘Take me to her.’

‘Yes sir,’ he says looking at him as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to bow or kiss at his shoes. Nevertheless he moved brushing past Zayn so he could lead him down the opposite direction of the hall. Zayn followed; eyes flinting off the immaculate colour of the maze of the white halls, dancing towards the scattered specks decorating the individual squares of concrete. They curved a bit with the small smile Zayn shot passerby-ers who were bold enough to maintain eye contact with him.

The elaborate tunnel of the Scientific Ward seemed to never end just in the short amount of time he’d been walking behind his escort. It was when the rich sound of hearty laughter drifted over the modest bulk in the man’s shoulder did Zayn refocus his gaze to the back of the scientist’s head. He was smiling as he caught Zayn’s eye over the shoulder.

‘I wasn’t going to snitch on you or anything, just so you know.’ He said chortling afterwards at Zayn’s displeased sound of appall as they turned yet another corner.

Zayn twisted his face in a frown, ‘what are you five?’ he quipped, ‘and besides. It’s not like I was all that worried.’

Or even at all.

‘Of course you weren’t,’ he says stopping suddenly in front what appeared to be a….wall. The scanner gave it away; just inches away from the dark crevices along the shape of the door that blended in with the length of the wall otherwise. The scientist presses his thumb to the waiting slab of screen with ease.

‘By the way, our vamp…Veronica…she hasn’t spoken a word to anyone since she got here.’ Walking past the threshold when the cleverly concealed door glided across to open the passage, ‘at first I thought it was just stubbornness, but she’s cooperative otherwise. It’s expected after all, but it’s strange that she hasn’t spoken to me…I’m assign to cater to her every need. After sensing that we don’t mean to exclusively harm them they usually cave after a good 2 days.’

Zayn stopped short of standing in the middle of the laboratory room.

His eyes looked around the weirdly cluttered/organized space before glancing at the flasks and cylinders scattered about in an orderly fashion, colors mimicking the rainbow bubbling listlessly inside of them. They caught onto the other scientist in the room, who balked at the sight of the field agent, and then promptly busied his eyes on what appeared to be a blank sheet of copy paper.

‘I say this because it’s only fair to warn; most likely the only thing you’re going to get out of her is the classic silent treatment. She’s ace at it.’ His escort admonished with a quirked brow.

Zayn cringed at the odor that began to waft from a conspicuous orange liquid starting to boil in a graduated cylinder. When he spotted the vault door on the opposite side of the room Zayn strung together a reply. ‘I’ll get her to talk.’

Zayn could practically feel the frown being shot at him. ‘If we couldn’t, what makes you think you can?’ Came the query.

Which was a good question; because it’s not like Zayn had a plan. He never had a plan because whenever he made them they always seemed to go to shit. But…he is the most notorious field agent since one Liam Payne so…. He’ll find a way.

Zayn smirked and cut his amber orbs at the man awaiting his answer, ‘the differences between you and I are mountains wide, mate.’ He shrugs nonchalantly only to be rewarded with the echo of the older man’s laughter once more.

The strawberry blonde clutched at his belly gently as if his ribs couldn’t take the strain of his laughter, ‘and you, mate, are painfully correct.’ He meekly wiped at the corner of his eyes, subsequently catching onto where Zayn’s eyes were scrutinizing. ‘As you can see, the vault room is open slightly. Obviously she’s right through there. If you need me I’ll be in the lab doing the usual stuffs.’ He says walking around to the wooden desk shoved into his corner of the lab.

‘If I’m not here and you need something, just ask around for Sully.’

‘Right.’ Zayn heads off with a nod in Sully’s direction before starting towards the darkened vault room ahead of him. When he passed over the doorsill the popping of liquid, shuffling of paper and chatter of educated nonsense died into background. The blackness of the room hit him as suddenly as the bone chilling temperature did.  

From the sudden shift in lighting it would have taken an average person at least 160 seconds to recover properly his, probably thanks to the earlier popping of Niall’s prescription, adjusted with minor squinting.

The room was vacant just as Harry’s was the first time Zayn saw him face to face; grimy, secluded, and overall bare aside from the metal chair toppled on its side probably due to a hasty exit a scientist preformed after gathering info.

The toppled chair, collecting a thin coat of dust down there, was once conspicuously placed before the main occupant of the vault room: the glass cube prison.

The dim light inside the ceiling of the cube swiftly chased the darkened claws of shadows into outward corners of the room around it. Different from Harry’s cell more over; instead of the cot built into one side of the cell wall, a large lead coloured tabled adorned the center of the cube; its girth stopping just inches from either side of the cube.

Underneath the opening of the metal table sat a wooden chair reminiscent of the one Zayn used to sneak inside of his tree house: wooden and splintered. There. Inside the wooden chair sat the very object of Zayn’s current desires.

Once again Zayn was struck by how such a powerful being could harness such tranquility and grace. And sensible fashion choices. Even though she had apparently been with a group of rogues trying to execute a hit, she seemed to be dressed for a garden variety day at the office.

In fact the crispy white material of her silky dress shirt mimicked the tunnel walls almost faultlessly. The sleeves were rolled up her arms that were placed strategically on the top of the table; right hand, swiftly, moving a Dixon pencil over a sheet of copy paper.

Her face was slightly shadowed due to the bowed positioning of her head. Her hair, long, wavy and coloured akin-ly to the brown roast coffee Zayn had with the sketchy breakfast he had scarfed down earlier, was draped delicately over the ball of her shoulder so as to keep it out of her face. Eyes, hidden behind the expensive looking bifocals slowly sliding down the tanned skin of her nose and—

When had he moved so close to the cube?

Oh. It was probably when he caught sight of just how identical the lines of their jaw bones were. Or when he noticed just how similar the tones of their skin were. The determined look Zayn used to get whenever he drew currently occupied the slab of her face visible to him. Hell, even the way she held the paper steady was exactly the same.

Maybe he’s a little off his game. Maybe he should stop thinking everyone was out to sabotage his ego because damn were they being serious. He might as well have declared doppelganger. Suddenly he could hear the thrum of his heartbeat over the stillness of the vault room air, over the scratch of pencil against paper, and he realized his feet were starting to protest against the weight of the trunk of his body. He needed to—

‘You’re loud.’ An accented voice intoned and it took a minute, it took a good minute for Zayn to comprehend that it came from her mouth. Aside from the way she shifted her posture a bit and crossed her ankles elegantly, she showed no signs that she had acknowledged his presence at all.

Then

‘You know you’re not very subtle. For someone who’s supposed to possess endless grace and stealth, you’re rather noisy,’ she went on, the pace of her hand quickening over the darkening piece of paper. ‘Your heart could out thrum a musk oxen’s.’

The look she gives him over the rim of her glasses in a mixture of amusement and....mocking disapproval. Zayn ignored the hair raising reaction of staring directly into a face he thought had belonged to him, and blinked with newfound comprehension. She was looking directly at him…and talking.

‘You can see me?’

Genuine puzzlement clouded her familiar features, ‘am I not supposed to be able to?’

She tutted at the short headshake the hunter managed and then halted the plight of her pencil, ‘well, that’s a shame. Here I was thinking that the V.E.C. had actually improved with technology. Poor little Nialler will surely protest at this news.’

He chose, as well, to ignore how casual she had mentioned Niall’s name and the knowledge she has about his obsession with new age technology. A sentiment meant to ploy him for sure.

When his silence ensued further she sat the pencil down against the table top and then laced her fingers atop it, her faceholding a curious lit to it. She inhaled as if readying herself and then—

‘I’ve got to tell you, of all the people who’ve come in here to watch me, poke me, feed me, and question me, you are by far the strangest.’ Her tone continuously changing from wonder to suspicion. ‘You’re trying to maintain this stoic uncaring façade but you clearly want something, yes?’

Zayn huffed, ‘answers. Actually, I want answers to the shitload of questions I have. Let’s start simple. That red head bloke—Sully— said you were being difficult. Said you’ve been ignoring anything and everything up to this point. Why’re you talking now?’

Veronica did a little huff of her own before cursing in Spanish. ‘I wasn’t being difficult.’ She said swinging her legs gracefully to the side of the chair before standing, straightening her pencil skirt and then moving to walk around to the side of the glass closest to Zayn.

Once she settled on the edge, she gave Zayn a shit-eating grin promptly causing his skin to crawl. ‘I didn’t talk to them because they weren’t who I wanted to speak to.’ She informed, reaching back slightly until her fingers hit their target. She dragged the paper across the table keeping her eyes trained on his face; she plainly lifted the piece of paper she had been drawing on earlier causing him to suck in air suddenly.

‘I’ve been waiting for you.’ She says barely cutting through the haze shock Zayn was experiencing, his eyes frowning and absorbing at fluctuating speeds. He found himself staring into a portrait of what couldn’t be denied as his face except every line was perfect. Every detail captured by the shading she added was unshaken and pronounced. Hell, even the quiff was ridiculously faultless.

The damn drawing looked better than he did on his best days.

Veronica continued as if his reaction was as normal as breathing. ‘I suppose I was a little miffed when I had gotten myself snatched up by the V.E.C. like that Idiot Grimshaw, but I’m not vindictive. It’s like every time one of you come near this box you think I’m going to maul my way through.’ She carped, frowning in distaste at the cubed prison.

Zayn sighed after trying to match the speed of his brain with the sluggish movements of his mouth, ‘Why?’

She blinked before, ‘why did I wait?’

A nod.

The vampire pursed her lips and sat the face portrait back onto the table behind her. ‘Because. I wanted to see you. Grimshaw approached you that night knowing exactly who you were. Not only had he known the consequences he’d face if he were to expose himself so blatantly in a populated human community, he also knew that he have to endure the wrath of the king were he to indulge your presence in general. Yet he did.’

She said matter of factly.

Her eyes scrutinizing his features so fiercely it was hard not to flinch. ‘So, I wanted to see if it was worth it.’

Zayn frowned as the initial shock began to wear off and his brain functions started up again. She must have been referring to the night Liam saved him; the night he was almost murdered by a vampire _again_. She had to be.

O.k. ‘G-Grimshaw? Who the fuck is Grimshaw?’

That familiar smirk danced on her lips again, ‘Nicholas ‘Grimmy’ Grimshaw,’ she drawls as if Zayn was a simpleton. ‘You’re telling me that brainless bulk of a Neanderthal didn’t jump at the chance to introduce himself after he ‘cornered’ you?’ she inquired in disbelief.

He wanted to answer. Truly, but one thing kept striking a cord. How did she know about this?

‘Okay…’ she said as if predicting his thought patterns. ‘I’ll put this in simple terms. Vampires of our elite never travel alone. Grimmy had disappeared into the city that night to handle some….personal business…. when he had suddenly crossed a path of temptation he simply could not resist. That’d be you.’

Zayn, who couldn’t stop the flinch that rattled his bones while briefly remembering the way this ‘Grimmy’ handled his personal business, lost his breath at her words. Anger bubbling up at the thoughts that’d been bouncing around in his head for over a decade. ‘What the fuck do I have to do with any of this? Why me?’ he demanded.

Yet she reacted in a way that snuffed that sudden fire burning at the pit of his soul.

‘Exactly.’ She said animatedly, her polished pointer fingernail jabbing at him in agreement. ‘See, that’s what I thought. Why go through all that trouble for one human? Why face exposure to humans in the process thus endangering our entire race. Why risk being captured and the death penalty that would most definitely be administered by the Board of V.E.C. Corporations? Why try against orders although forewarning clearly set the consequences as being torn limb from limb?’

‘Why?’ she demanded to no one in general before turning the burning amber of her glare onto him. ‘You see, Grimshaw’s an idiot, a big fat headed idiot, but he’s one of the sharpest idiots I know. A powerful vampire. As a human he was the type of man that didn’t have to demand respect to get it. Yet he went after you…’ it almost sounded like a question.

‘I couldn’t wrap my head around it for years. It nagged me. I’ve tried furiously to brush it aside, but with vampires… I’m sure you find that quenching thirst isn’t as easy as it appears.’ She admonished with a devilish glint in her eyes. ‘So when I was captured on that bust of a mission last week. Like I said I was a bit pissed, but learning that the infamous vampire hunter Zayn Malik was at large in V.E.C. Corp. gave me something to look forward to.’

‘And after learning everything Grimshaw threw away just at the mere juxtaposition between you two that night… Just like him I couldn’t resist. So I waited, knowing full well that you aren’t the patient type, for you to show up. So I could see if all of these melancholy strings of events were worth it. To see if the king had a good reason….’ She trails, voice going softer afterwards.

Veronica pushed off the table and walked so that the only thing preventing their noses from touching was the glass barrier. ‘I wanted to see for myself, if this one little human was worth all the strain.’ She intoned in a soft whisper; her gaze grazing over every inch of his exposed flesh. ‘And now I’ll have to admit to you, albeit begrudgingly. Zayn Malik: you’ve exceeded all expectations. I’ll give you that.’

Zayn sighed, his body starting to feel like lead. ‘What does that even mean?’

‘It means exactly what it sounds like, love,’ she sneered in a malign manner. ‘You are purely gorgeous. And well worth the trouble I’d say. I can practically smell the envy your humans pour off just at the sight of you.’ Veronica continued and though it sounded as if she were still pulling his leg, her eyes displayed a tampered dimming reflecting a muddle of disappointment and acceptance.

‘That’s sweet.’ Zayn groused, taking a step back; intent on finding the knocked over chair without actually taking his eyes off hers. ‘While I can listen to your flattery all day, I still don’t follow what you’re talking about.’

She shook her head, her face settling on an expression of unnerving annoyance as if she were dealing with a repetitive child. ‘Did you know you have a bite on your lip? Right here.’ She said tapping her bottom lip.

The sarcastic comment he had prepared to fire back died in his throat. He froze in bending to sit the chair up straight.

Her eyebrows rose at his frown as her expression remained deadly serious. ‘It’s a mark you know.’ She informed, moving back to a more relaxing position against the table once more. ‘Usually a vampire leaves that type of marking on a human once they’ve bonded with them.’

Zayn drug his teeth across his bottom lip before standing the small chair up correctly. I’ll bite, he thought. Let her take the lead.

‘By marking you mean…’

‘Yes, a very powerful vampire has singled you out and marked you as their mate. We all have human mates. Seems your vampire decided against killing or turning you.’ She observed boredly. ‘You see we have a choice when it comes to our mates. Do away with you to save us trouble. Turn you and ultimately form a bond stronger than the ones that hold this planet intact with the moon. Or… mark you in the way a dog pisses on a fire hydrant.’ She gibes smirking at his scowl.

Then, ‘but its not simply self proclamation. It’s also to ward off other vampires because while a vampire marks you this way they stay away. Honestly who wants someone stealing their prize once their back is turned?’

Zayn scoffed and settled into the chair. It’s quite ironic to listen to a vampire complain about stealing.

Her eyes widened in earnest. ‘Seriously, vampires are as protective of their mate as wolves are a pack. To keep the mates safe from harm from the vampire alone we are known to stray in order to spare your precious human life so we don’t kill our mates due to the craving of their blood. And also to protect the mate in general if the infatuation with them is as strong as they say, we have been known to snatch our mates up and keep them in a concealed confinement. Maybe like a dungeon or a…coffin.’ She finished with a dark chuckle as all Zayn could think about were the skeletons of innocent people tied up and gagged just for the vampires’ selfishness.

‘Kidnapping in general was something vampires did often back then. You shouldn’t look so disheartened.’ She continued with a glint behind her bifocals that told Zayn that she was definitely implying more emphasis onto her words than needed.

Even the way she had said ‘you’ seemed a bit direct. Slurred and riddled with calumny. Zayn’s grip tightened the ball of his interlocked fingers.

What the fuck was she implying?

‘Ooooh you’re scowling again.’ She sang in an enraptured tone. Her know it all posture returning as she looked at him in a way she seemed to know would piss him off. ‘Now where do I know that scowl from?’ she inquired mockingly while stroking an invisible beard.

Then

‘Ah! That’s where. That’d be from the brilliant Yaser Malik himself. He owned that look.’

Zayn started at the sound of his father’s name. Was he hearing things…or did this veteran vampire bitch just speak his father’s name as if they used to shoot the breeze together like a couple of old friends.

‘You look just like him, boy,’ she says with a knowing smile. ‘I remember scoffing every time he used to say ‘A good looking man like me always wears his good looking genes.’ Terrible with jokes you know.’

‘Shut your mouth.’ Zayn demanded harshly. He knew his father was terrible at jokes. He’d heard that same one repeatedly as a child. It just didn’t register how the fuck she would know that.

‘Awww what’s the problem?’ she whined positively basking in his agitated state. ‘Didn’t you come here to talk?’

‘Just shut the fuck up, alright!’ he yells trying to align his scattered thoughts. He was certain that she was fucking with his head again. She had to be….but his father was a very private man; all but barely trusting the people who were raised beside him or worked closely with him. She would only know this if...if—

‘If it weren’t for the fact that I know you can’t get to me, I’d say you’d be planning to use that handsome gun of yours on me.’ she says as if she were taunting him, his fingers flexing on the butt off his gun he wasn’t aware he was touching until then. ‘You act just like him too. Strong and rugged; Excreting intimidation although scared shitless.’

Zayn sucked in a couple breaths through his mouth and nose, pushing it out almost as quickly as it came in. ‘What’s the matter Zayn? You having a hard time believing your sweet klutz of a father could be associated with a lowly bloodsucker like me?’ she jeered wickedly through her teeth. ‘You still think daddy was a saint?’

Zayn glared at her through the glass after gaining his wits again. ‘Keep my father’s name out of your mouth and mind your fucking business,’ he warned.

This only caused her to smile, ‘or what? You’re going to shoot through this cube specifically designed to keep something like me from breaking out. Try, be my guest.’ She offers gesturing at the mirror, before pulling up on the table so that her hilled feet swung in the free space beneath. ‘But whether you like it or not. I knew your father and I knew him well. I knew where he lived, how he lived and what he did for a living. You’d be surprised at what he’s done in the past to keep your family safe.’

‘My father wouldn’t swat a fly.’ He defended catching onto what she was insinuating.

‘Your father was a very bad man.’ She argued, pronouncing every vowel as if to drive the point. ‘But, it’s clear you wouldn’t believe me even if I showed you the things I’ve seen him do. So….here’s a Froot Loop for this cereal trail I’ve laid out for you. Why don’t you just ask your precious Mary Ann?’

And just like that his eyes hollowed while his heart promptly did a triple-lindy through the gaping pit forming in his bowels.

<><>><<><> 

Zayn pushed out of the vault room with Veronica’s daunting chuckle nipping at the shell of his ear. He ignored the questionable gaze Sully sent his way, and the fearful flinch the other scientist did at his hasty entry.

Half of his brain spat hundreds upon thousands of reassuring thoughts for his quelling turmoil while the other half seemed to be moving a million miles a mush. Zayn stood unsteadily on his two legs as he tried to reign in his bearings.

Vampires are manipulative. Especially the old ones; therefore she’s obviously playing you. His thoughts hissed.

But she knew things…about Niall and dad. She even mentioned Mary Ann.

Veronica is clearly one of Harry’s kind. She’s different. She could see and hear you in there. With that hearing she could have easily overheard info from a blah blah blah blah bladbidity blah.

It didn’t matter what his self-consciousness was trying to reason. Zayn’s trained to suspect when someone is lying. Nothing came off that way. Fact is that she knew way too much for this just to be brushed aside.  

And even as he stood in that vault room a mere minute ago damn near ready to blast the mirror cube to pieces Veronica had maintained her facial expression one of knowledge and frightening understanding. Even as he demanded justification her nonchalance was present.

_‘I take it dear Mary has renounced bringing up your family in general so you could…waddle in your grief peacefully?’ she had said. Eyebrows quirked, smile sharp._

_Which was another thing because Mary Ann had; she still does. He doesn’t even try to pry his mouth open this time._

_‘A noble act, all things considered, but in this situation it’s more selfish than selfless, hun.’ She purred moving around to the other side of the table to sit in her chair once more. ‘Why don’t you just ask her how you were raised since something tells me you can’t remember to the full extent. Give her credit. She knows a lot more than you think.’_

As Zayn forced his vision to focus on the tiles on the lab floor he could suddenly hear Mary Ann’s voice echoed and faint all at once.

_‘It was his father. Yaser,’ Mary Ann cut in. ‘For as long as I’ve known him he’s always been like that; closing up every corner with sealant, restructing the house so that it was unbreachable. He’d done it so well that the saying about not judging books by cover, cakes by icing, and personalities by faces became all too true. Tricia explained to me later on that he was working so hard to make sure nothing would enter that house without his permission.’_

Zayn sucked in a large breath in realization, his head reeling at the after effects of the flash back, body begging for mercy at the use of Niall’s prescriptions. They both were working now. Zayn caught a couple of flashes of the work he used to do with his father; him clumsily squeezing sealant over nooks in the corners, his father catching his finger occasionally as he showed Zayn how to drill the shiny silver locks into the doorjambs, the both of them making a royal mess applying adhesive to the holes in the basement and then giggling to bits at his father’s lame jokes as they tightened the broken tab locks on the windows.

_Tricia explained to me later on that he was working so hard to make sure nothing would enter that house without his permission._

Zayn’s back stiffened at once. Any air for doubt he had before was shoved furiously into the wind. Veronica may be an old snotty vamp bitch, but she wasn’t lying. A growl rumbled deep in his chest as the side effects of having so many emotions quarreling inside of him escaladed. When he looked around the lab both Sully and his lab partner weren’t paying him any mind anymore. As it were, scientists were already weary of field agents, they knew better than to approach an unstable one.

And it was fine because he hadn’t the time to exchange pleasantries and what not. He moved, legs carrying him in long strides towards the open door to the wall hall outside; mind set on one task. He needed to see Mary Ann.

<><>><<><>

Amiss the flurry of everything he seemed to be feeling at once, Zayn was feeling one thing with surging certainty: Determination. Damn these side effects, he thought bitterly. The impulses were so strong he was almost afraid that someone with own body structure convulse and then promptly explode due to the pressure beginning to thump at the back of his head.

He felt everything and nothing at once; he just knew that he needed answers. He needed to get his feet, currently speed walking, on the pedal of his car where he would most likely burn the tire rubber in his haste to Mary Ann’s. So in his contradicting brain haze Zayn found himself navigating the brilliant scientific hall with surprising ease; remembering the directions as if they came to him as easy as breathing.

Zayn almost didn’t notice he was about to steamroll right over someone until they yelped and buckled comically. It wasn’t until Zayn pulled them up by their shoulder did he see who it was. Or rather hear.

‘Do I look like frecking piece ‘o floor to you, Zayn?’ the blonde demanded straightening his crispy white lab coat.

The hunter gave him a apologetic look after pulling himself to full height, ‘I don’t know man. You’re lookin’ pretty pale.’

Niall’s face portrayed mock offense for approximately 2 seconds before some of the blue in his stunning orbs disappeared when they narrowed a bit, ‘you’re one to talk. You alright there, Zed?’

Zayn blanched and realized Niall was openly gazing over his slightly quivering frame, ‘Yeh, ‘m fine.’ Zayn mustered, trying and probably failing at pulling a believable expression. ‘I’m sorry I’m in a rush. See you ‘round though.’

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa,’ came as the slightly taller man stepped into his path and warm hands came to pull his body back where it was a second ago. Niall frowned as he continued to look him over closely and then he leaned a bit closer. ‘Slow down for a second, Flash. I’m serious, you don’t look too good.’

Zayn, who was trying not to glare at the scientists that stopped and stared at their interactions, scoffed and pushed the fingers pressing into his forehead away. ‘I’m fine Niall. But I’ve really got to—’

Niall cut him off with a rushed whisper yell. ‘Are you having a reaction to the pills?!’

Zayn blinked before, ‘what, no I’m good, well I probably... technically no.’ he settled on because it wasn’t the reaction Niall was speaking of. Though his hearing was probably super tuned for a banshee, he could see spores of dust even in the sheer white of the light in the halls, and he could practically taste some of the smells floating out of things and out of people; those were merely side effects. ‘Don’t worry about me.’

‘Hard not to,’ Niall muttered. ‘Does that mean it’s working for you, then?’

Zayn let his eyes follow a scientist walking past them in a particularly slow—eavesdropping—manner, before fixing Niall with a look. ‘I have remembered some things, don’t know why you suspected I wouldn’t, you genius. But nothing I can discuss here,’ he informed with a small grin. ‘Now if you could just call me later, we can chat all about it, yeah?’

He twisted out of the scientist’s grasp, but knew he wouldn’t get far, ‘Hold on now you squirming twit.’ Niall huffed, hand latching onto the curve of Zayn’s elbow. ‘There’s something I’d actually like to speak with you about.’

Zayn sighed and reversed to face the Irishman, ‘what Niall?’

‘Don’t you get snippy.’ The aforementioned warned with a stern look. ‘I can see you don’t want to be bothered, but had Liam and Henrick been in today I wouldn’t bother you at all. I hate it when yeh get all moody.’

Guilt surfaced among those clouding emotions stirring around his comprehension, ‘I know. Just get on with it.’

‘Look, last week Liam sent in a request regarding a video file being analyzed?’ Niall asked, probably looking for confirmation that Zayn knew what he was on about. ‘There’s a particular part where a whisper is heard. I think we might have figured it out.’

And then as if being sucked into a time-lapse he was back to the day he had found out about Harry. back in the abandoned office Liam led them in so he could show them videos of the ‘King’.

_Zayn’s head whipped back to the screen just in time to see the camera shake with the force of a large distant boom! It caused the boy to finally move. He slowly lifted his head to look up at the flickering lights inside of the holding cell; eyes a murky colour Zayn couldn’t pinpoint at the moment since the boy was in motion suddenly. He lowered his gaze and stood straighter as a series of muffled screams sounded in the distance. His brows furrowed in confusion for a moment, and then he was suddenly as content as before. A quiet, hurried whisper fell from his lips just a second before another boom! caused the lights to go out._

_Erik released his lip and a large breath, ‘he whispered something…just before all of that. What did he whisper?’_

_Liam shrugged, eyes settling on Erik, ‘I don’t know, that’s being analyzed as we speak.’_

Niall’s face came into focus as the blonde tapped at the screen of one of the many high tech phones he possessed. ‘According to my team who have watched the video over a gazillion times, they’ve singled out any other langue other than English….it seems Harry simply said….Louis.’

Zayn, who was finding it hard not to stare at some of the golden locks of Niall’s hair catching the light, frowned at the sudden twist in his gut.

‘I still don’t understand why you guys haven’t just asked him, aren’t you working with him now?’ he heard Niall ask, but he could only respond with a considerate nod. His mind doing that odd thing where it seems to dig up memories so old they seem distorted.

Behind the mask of his shivering lids, his eyes received flashes of what looked to be his basement. The set of fold out chairs his father kept there for his weekly poker nights. He could hear the joyous laughter of hearty men; he even remembers seeing his father and the group of men poke fun at each other as the game ensued belonging to the times he had poked his head in the door to peek at the happenings going on down there.

But for some reason at that moment he remembered a singular voice taunting the lot of the group. Promising his victory and how he would bathe in their demise. The voice was crystal clear, light and slightly pitchy with his excitement even as the men around him waved him off and taunted right back.

He couldn’t see his face but he could swear the name and the voice fit together perfectly.

Louis, he thought.

Louis…..

Abruptly his mind went to a man he had seen frequently throughout his childhood. A man with a loud mouth, louder laugh, and an ear bleeding personality. A man who had made him giggle like a school girl with crush. A man with sharp features, caramel hair, and ocean blue eyes and indeed a man he hadn’t seen in over 13 years.

He took a second to acknowledge Niall’s observatory reactions, before sighing at how easily his brain jumped from one conclusion to the next. Zayn had no proof, yet once again everything made sense.

‘Uncle Lou,’ he whispered. His memories drudging up images of the blue eyed man he hardly believed he forgot. What exactly the charming man had to do with Harry? He couldn’t tell.

<><>><<><> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to all who have comforted me with kind words. im alll better and hopefully will remain that way.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW mentions of an impending panic attack.

 

**< ><>><<><> **

Curiosity is a peculiar thing. More often than not it’s the reason people run towards trouble opposed to away from it in grade D horror films, or why sharks nibble before they bite. It’s an annoying urge that gets the better of those with the strongest of iron will occasionally causing more trouble than its worth. Perhaps that’s why the small Bradford native continuingly cursed himself as he sat squatted behind an abandoned table in the far corner of his basement.

Yes, it was curiosity; the very same culprit that drove him to poke his head into the crack of the basement door to see just what was so funny. It was the same reason he was up way past his bedtime, ducking to stay hidden from view while trying to deal with the uncomfortable way his foot was jammed between the concrete floor and a rusty heater pipe.

The men didn’t notice him one bit focusing instead on cracking wise jokes and taunting one another at every turn. But since Zayn was there he watched. He followed the game as best he could, followed the drawn out stories that made little sense to the small boy who could tell some of them were slightly pissed off the beers they continued to drink; all the while knowing that he couldn’t stay down there forever.

Zayn knew he had to plot an escape that wouldn’t land him on punishment for next week or eternity.

By the time the talk and laughter began to wane out, Zayn had found himself in a more suitable position and was cursing his young body for waging a war between falling asleep or trying to sneeze. When he heard the several sets of footsteps pad up the stairs he heaved a sigh. Lesson learned: bedtime was bedtime for a reason.

‘You can come out now.’ A voice broke through causing the boy to stiffen.

The nine year old lifted himself a bit to peek over the edge of the table and spotted the tanned blue eyed man named Louis still sat calmly at the poker table. He appeared to be sifting through the cards as he gathered them into a neat deck.

Zayn gasped and sat back down; his bum smacking harshly against the cold floor.

‘It’s alright,’ the man assured from across the room, ‘I’m the only one who knows you’re here. The coast is at its clearest.’

Louis’ words tickled him a bit, ultimately causing his leaping heart to settle down. The boy slowly pulled himself up, begrudgingly realizing he was as good as dead once his mother found out about this.

Zayn straightened to full height only to belatedly realize the man was towering over him already. His body jolted; mind not quite capturing onto when the chipper lad had moved and how he hadn’t noticed.

Louis didn’t miss a beat, smile beaming at him a bit bright for the yellow glow of the basement light ‘Zayn right?’

He answered after eyeing Louis for a moment, ‘yeah.’

‘Well now, you’re quite the little daredevil,’ Louis teased; bending a bit to accommodate Zayn’s height. ‘Isn’t it well past your bedtime?’

Zayn huffed, eyeing the stairs, ‘caught that did you?’

A noise caught between affronted hurt and mock shock erupted from the man. He placed a large hand over his heart as he stared at Zayn, ‘How rude. Is that any way to talk to the person who risked his friendship to save said friends’ son’s arse?’

Zayn blinked at him before giggling, ‘You’re weird for an old man.’

‘Old?’ Louis chastised looking distraught. ‘Take that back!’

Zayn shook his head, smile still on his lips, ‘or what?’

Louis gestured towards the general area of the basement. ‘May I remind you little one, where we are and what you have done?’

The boy simply fixed him with a doubtful look, ‘oh, what you’re going to tattle?’

‘What makes you think I won’t?’

‘Because there are things I know about that I shouldn’t,’ Zayn drawled lazily, ‘Like those extra cards you keep hidden up the sleeve of your right arm.’

Louis’s eyes widened as he stared at the small finger pointing at his right arm, ‘I reckon you’d have to give all that money you won back when the others find out you’re a cheat.’ Zayn continued while fiercely fighting off a yawn.

The laugh that had initially drawn in his curiosity erupted then as Louis clutched his belly. ‘Why, you’re a sneaky little snot aren’t you? I’ll tell you what; I shall find you a safe escape route, if you’ll keep your mouth shut about the cards.’

For a moment it got so quiet that Zayn could hear the men clumbering about upstairs, dimwitted laughter and so on and forth about the callings of cabs.

‘Only if you promise to do the same about tonight.’

Louis grinned and stuck out a large hand, ‘deal?’

The nine year old returned the grin and placed his palm inside the large waiting one, ‘deal.’

It was the first deal Zayn had ever made, and after using Louis’ body as a shield to guide a safe escape route towards his warm and by then very welcoming bedroom, Zayn decided to make it a habit to bother the blue eyed man whenever he came to visit on those infamous Saturday poker nights.

Louis Tomlinson.

Yeah. Zayn was positive that the same curiosity that had drawn him so intensely to Louis as a child was the one pulling him after the severed tether their relationship was after the death of Zayn’s family. It led him to the panel room at V.E.C. Headquarters where he promptly looked up the name to track his whereabouts.

He could feel the corner of his lips tug upwards hesitantly as he eyed the information on the screen. With a printed copy in hand he rushed out the door, a brewing super cell of flesh, bone, blood, and determination.

**< ><>><<><> **

Zayn was never really fond of being mediocre-ly poor or the ghetto where you’re lucky to still claim the shirt on your back, but had the same distaste for the supercilious rich where you’re lucky to exchange a couple words with the person next to you without the biting look of disdain tacked on rather carelessly.

It’s pretty much why he was such an outcast in his childhood; not quite slotting into one category for the sake of being too much or too less of something else. Always the sore thumb of the situation when it came to fitting in.

That was basically Zayn’s thought pattern as he drove the streets of London, the engine of his car humming along as the further he accelerated, the nicer the buildings seemed to get. But when he finally shut the engine down after arriving Zayn realized that despite the hell he went through as a half-Pakistani artistic nobody was well worth not being the average predictable somebody with life long goals.

From what he see through his windshield the building was perfect. Appearing modest but obviously carefully built so that the owner invested money twice Zayn’s yearly salary into the structure. In terms this building built in his father’s name somehow solidified the Malik way: being different isn’t so bad especially if it attracts pleasurable attention.

True to his one track mind, Zayn had almost forgotten about the entire Veronica consultation, but had remained adamant about contacting Mary Ann. He’d rung her several times during the drive over, but only got her predictably clumsily set voice mail. He chewed on his lip as he stared at the screen of his phone. Perrie was calling. Again.

With a heavy sigh Zayn tossed the device carelessly onto the passenger seat before stepping out into the nipping outside air and marching towards the doors of the 50 story building of _Yaser Corporations_.

Deep inside; passed the stubbornness and the wantonness for forget, Zayn knew he was avoiding Perrie because for every thought he spared for her, he was right back in that hotel room with Harry seething at him, but at the same moment looking as if he wanted to cry.

He didn’t want to be there so what he did was focus on putting one foot in front of the other, concentrated on the large yellow letters spelling _Welcome to Yaser Corporations_ printed onto the blue carpet of the welcoming mat. Zayn pulled on the face Liam had once told him would “charm a nun out of her skirt” as he walked up to the crescent shaped front desk.

Normally the way the petite woman fumbled her grip on the desk phone she was talking into would send a wave of smug bemusement over him…just not today.  

The poor woman simply stared at him as he came to a stop just in front of the desk. She looked as if she had just boarded the trolley to La La Land; the dopey almost dream like expression on her face only dropping when there was evident noise coming from the phone still placed next to her ear.

‘Oh yes, forgive me Mr. Vanderbilt,’ she apologized flushing furiously. ‘I just, uh, lost my track of time. I’ll patch you through to him right away. Have a pleasant day.’ She wished before pressing a dainty finger to a button on the phone panel and hanging up.

She lifted her head slowly, blonde tresses spilling into her eyes momentarily as she straightened to full height. ‘Can I help you, sir?’

Zayn gave her a genuine smile, feeling a little guilty, ‘Yes you can. I was wondering if you could tell me whether Louis Tomlinson was in today.’

She dipped her head again, looking as if she wanted to scratch at the pink continuing to stain the apple of her cheeks. ‘He is, in fact.’

The hunter eyed her floral blouse, dragging his eyes lazily across her name tag. ‘Well, Grace is it? Could you direct me to his office?’

Grace’s head twitched to the side a fraction before she shook her head slowly. ‘I cannot do that if you don’t have an appointment…sir,’ she trailed a bit as she stared into his eyes once more.

‘I assure you he won’t mind. Louis and I are old friends. He’ll make an exception.’ Zayn purrs. He could practically smell arousal and estrogen blossoming from where he stood and knew then and there that he had her.

She blinked slowly, her eyes flickering from his smoldering ones to the bow of his upper lip. ‘Mr. Tomlinson’s office is down the hall to your right in the east wing of the building.’ Zayn only let up to follow where her finger pointed down the wide berth of the hallway. ‘Keep going until you reach the corner. After you make a right his office is the very last door to your left.’

Zayn nodded and gave her a quick wink, ‘thanks, babe.’

After walking a few steps he couldn’t help but smile for real when he heard her rush out a breath before saying, ‘ugh, I am so fired.’

**< ><>><<><> **

A million and two thoughts passed through his brain as he followed Grace’s direction through the long hall. Louis Tomlinson is actually here, Louis Tomlinson owns a building named after his father, Louis Tomlinson owns a _company_ named after his father , but Louis Tomlinson didn’t come to the funeral so Louis Tomlinson probably wont even remember him….Louis Tomlinson is… Louis Tomlinson is standing right in front of him.

Zayn stopped dead in his tracks staring at the familiar posture of the man just beginning to jiggle his key to the lock on his door with one hand while the other clutched carefully around the shell of a cell phone, tried to twist the knob. Zayn was attempting to process the simplicity of what he was seeing, when Louis finally got the door to open after a few curses and maneuvers. He looked over and stopped his actions only to smile the same one Zayn had first witnessed that night in basement.

‘Well, well. Zayn Malik.’ He said voice still the same as well; high and just on the light side of pitchy. ‘What a lovely surprise.’

He didn’t look surprised but on the flip side he did look quite pleased.

‘You knew I would come?’ he asks because he has to just to see how Louis would react, but he just shakes his head, smile firmly in place.

‘No, Grace told me.’ he said lifting up the cell in his right hand and if lies had a foul stench his eyes would be watering by now. ‘Come now, old friend.’ Louis cajoled putting direct emphasis on the “old friend” ‘if you wish to talk I’d much rather do it sitting down. Old age and all.’

Then he was gone, walking straight into the room without another word. The light in the office flicked on a moment later. Zayn’s brain finally decided to catch up with the seemingly normal pace of events as he walked into the large office space. Spotless, it was. So tidy that it actually looked as if no one had been inside the office—aside from the cleaning help— for a while.

The shorter man placed his computer bag down on the wooden desk, already stripped down from his coat and gloves. He turns and levels Zayn with a welcoming look as he settles on the edge of the desk.

He was the same. No doubt about it. The same height, the same girth, the same sharp features, jutted jawbone and rounded chin. The arch of his eyebrows were still pointed and the intensity in his supremely blue eyes displayed the contradiction that was Louis Tomlinson. Piercing and fierce yet patient and kind all at once.

Zayn found himself swallowing down nostalgia, ‘you haven’t aged a day.’

This seemed to flatter the older man as his smile gained a few more mega watts, ‘that’s good to hear. You on the other hand, young man, have grown into something magnificent. I can tell just by looking at you that you’ve done something great with your life… even after the tragedy. Your folks would be proud, kid.’

And that…twisted a couple of screws loose in that iron wall he had tried to put up on his way here. ‘So…you’ve built an entire company named after my father.’

Louis nodded once, ignoring the way his phone buzzed against the desktop underneath it, ‘that I have.’

Zayn couldn’t really restrain the way his face began to pinch up, ‘why?’

After a few blinks Louis folded his arms across his chest with an airy sigh, ‘I don’t know if you’ve lost track of reality, but Yaser and I were good friends. I decided to let his legacy progress by investing it in something he loved. So I borrowed his name for a little bit of forever. He deserves as such. He’s a good man.’

‘Was.’

Louis gave him this _look_ with a lot of unreadable-ness and a lot of just plain _c’mon Zayn_. It vaguely reminded him of the expression Veronica had worn so well. ‘Was, is, will always be a good man. That’s just something death can’t steal away.’

Zayn’s inner voice whined pitifully as Louis’ phone began to buzz again. It was getting harder to look at him all earnest and what not, ‘I don’t understand. You didn’t come to the funeral.’

Louis kept looking at him in that same way. As if trying to get him to understand something he should already know. ‘That night,’ he started and just by the heaviness in his tone Zayn could tell what night he was speaking of.

‘That Saturday. I was there. we all were, just like always, but I got an emergency call right in the middle of it so I had to leave early to catch a flight over to the states. You…you were rightfully in bed that night so I didn’t want to upset Trisha by waking you up just to say goodbye…but anyways…my son, well he’s actually my nephew, since he’d lost his parents a while back he might as well have been my son…he had gotten gravely ill. I couldn’t leave his side no matter how much I wanted to. But when I heard about the fire I felt terrible. But my boy was still sick, so I couldn’t leave him just yet. I couldn’t make it. I’m sorry Zayn.’  

Zayn began to wilt at the etches of pain starting to ruin the happiness that he’d remembered being on Louis’ face 24/7 and he asked because he had to, ‘is he um, your nephew...is he alright.’

While Zayn was cursing himself for sounding like a kid apologizing after breaking something expensive, Louis face was…strange. He was looking at Zayn funny again and the latter couldn’t really tell if this was Louis’ way of dragging himself back up to par after all the death talk, but there was a glint in those blue eyes that couldn’t be ignored. A curve lifting the corner of his mouth.

‘He died a long time ago.’ Was all he said.

Zayn wilted a little more finding he definitely wasn’t able to look at him anymore, ‘I’m sorry.’

That familiar laugh sounded then, ‘it’s alright Zayn. I mean it when I say _long_ time ago. Besides he’s always with me, the bugger. Can’t get rid of him, he’s always around. Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same about you’re family sometimes. Like they’re near and away from you at all times.’

He wanted to answer, he did, but Veronica was pushing through his train of thought. ‘Louis.’

‘Yes, Zayn.’

‘My father. I don’t remember his job…. I barely remember him working. Despite all the time he spent with Doniya, Waliyah, Safaa and I…I feel like I never knew him at all. you don’t feel that way about your nephew now do you?’ he says frowning up again as if tasting something sour at reducing his father to a stranger.

There was a beat of silence then, ‘how do you remember your father?’

That was easy enough. The man was the perfect example of a balance scale: loud and clumsy but careful and quiet when he needed to be. He was a comforting presence in any situation, like how he was there for Waliyah’s very first recital, or with Safaa when she lost her first tooth and went tearing through the house yelling to the top of her lungs that she had tooth cancer. His father was always anywhere and everywhere at once. ‘There. He was there.’ Zayn said.

‘That’s right, he was.’ Louis countered, ‘your father was always there for you and your family. He was fiercely protective of each and every one of you and I know very well that he would’ve given his own life just to keep anyone out of danger…not just his loved ones. He was a leader, a great architect, a superhero in the flesh. He loved you, still does wherever he is. Never forget that, Zayn.’  

What Zayn was currently feeling could probably be described as collateral damage of the brain. It was pounding, throbbing really, causing his skull to feel like it could crack at any moment. Like he suddenly had encephalitis, meningitis, and septic shock happening to him all at once.

How was he supposed to respond to that? How could he let a vampire lead him into distrusting the man who helped mold him into who he is today? Why is he so fucking stupid?

‘Yeh, you’re right…’ he said finally getting the courage to look into Louis’ unwavering gaze. Louis nodded and for a moment it looked as if he was going to say something more, ‘listen Z—’ he starts only to be cut off by his phone buzzing again followed by the his office phone ringing. He eyed both before standing straight and scratching at the mustache above his lip.

‘Look, Zayn. I know we haven’t exactly been in touch with each other and that’s more my fault rather than yours. So I apologize for that…and I would love to keep speaking with you if you wouldn’t mind. Pretty please, cherry on top.’

Zayn chuckled a bit, his eyes burning a little, ‘of course Uncle Louis.’

This time when his phone chimed it was accompanied with a knock on the door. They both turned and saw Grace standing there. ‘Mr. Tomlinson, they’re calling you up for a meeting.’

Louis nodded chuckling as the office phone began to ring once more, ‘I can see that. Thank you, love.’ when the girl began to blush at Louis’ pet name she quickly excused herself. ‘Oh! Gracie, could you wait there for a moment. Thank you.’

When Louis looked to him again his eyes were playful, smile lighting up the room once more, ‘I’m a wanted man as you can see,’ he says reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a thin card and handing it to Zayn. ‘here, that’s my number. Call anytime you need anything or just want to talk.’ He orders.

Zayn blinked, ‘yeah, okay.’

Louis gave him a once over after finally grabbing his phone. ‘You look like you want to hug me,’ he says suddenly. Then he was holding open his arms and making grabby hands. ‘Alright then, lets have it. Come on and give old uncle Tommo a good squeeze.’

Zayn laughs and it feels like the first time he’s actually done it in ages. When he slips into Louis’ arms after the older man shouted rather manically “Embrace me!” he comes as close to feeling at home than he had since he last visited Mary Ann’s.

‘You’d better call me, Malik.’ Louis says, pounding him gently on the back. ‘Grace, would you show him out?’ he asks over the younger man’s shoulder.

Grace reappeared into view and did a nod that came off as more of a bow, ‘of course, Mr. Tomlinson.’

He nods and pulls back letting his large hand linger so he could maintain hold on the back of his neck.

‘You really have grown into your face. Would it be weird if I tried to kiss you?’

‘Get off.’ Zayn chuckled as he pulled out of Louis’ grip.

Louis only laughed as he checked the screen of his buzzing phone. ‘Alright get out of here, squirt. Can’t have you holding me up anymore than you have or else my colleagues will loose their knickers inside themselves. Take him away, Grace.’  

The small woman came and placed a light hand on Zayn’s arm, ‘Right this way, sir.’

Zayn, still feeling a little fragile, followed her lead and waved meekly at his old friend beginning to speak into the receiver of his phone, ‘later Zayn.’

**< ><>><<><> **

Zayn felt odd on the way back through the halls. He wanted to piece something together because after all Two of the factors that tie into the night of the fire is Louis and vampires.

He had gone there to yell at Louis, pull his bitch face and wear into him the way he does to vamps when they suddenly gain constipation of the mouth. He wanted to be angry and make stupid accusations connecting Louis to Harry which would have exposed V.E.C. corp. and would’ve probably cost him his job. Liam would’ve lost his shit.

Zayn noticed he was beginning to want a lot these days and more or less the things he wanted on these situations seem to be on the opposite spectacle of his vision. These plans, the more he makes them, the less the make sense.

Zayn gave Grace a soft smile and waved at her when she looked at finally him long enough to actually see it. Almost as soon as the bitter mid November air hit the heat of his cheeks, Zayn felt the pills beginning to drudge up activity in his brain. He covered his eyes when flashes of his memory began to flicker across his vision like a worn black and white film.  

Once he had actually made it to the interior of his car, Zayn placed his throbbing head to rest on the stirring wheel. His breathing loud and ragged to his own ears as the images flowed in like a tributary; one after the other flashing so quickly that if he didn’t concentrate he was sure to miss them.

He saw Louis more than ten times he’s sure wearing a striped shirt….then Zayn was in his room asleep but not as he stared up at his ceiling. He’s listening to the rain pelt a beat into his window when suddenly that shadow appears and those swirling multi coloured eyes are above him once more.

Zayn’s head shot up so quickly that he was surprised he didn’t actually knock against something with the knee jerk reaction. While his heart was seemed to be attempting to break free, his phone was ringing on the passenger seat.

After calming a bit, he wiped at the small sheen of sweat running into his blurry eyes before reaching over for his phone.

His eyes widened as he read he had at least 30 missed calls, equal voice mails, and around 50 texts. All of them tributes from Liam, Erik, and Perrie.

From Perrie: Hey babe.

From Liam: I saw that you checked in, but I can’t seem to find you…

From Perrie: Zaynie?

From Liam: Hey, you didn’t pick up. You alright?

From Perrie: Zaayyn?

From Liam: You weren’t at work Zayn. Did something happen???

From Perrie: Zayn!

From Liam: Why aren’t you answering your phone?????

From Perrie: ZAyn!!! You had better not be ignoring me.

From Erik: Liam’s upset and Harry looks like he ate something rancid. Where are you?

From Perrie: Is that anyway to treat your fiancé on our anniversary??? Zayn you bett

From Liam: Annnswr ur phone Zayyynn.

From Perrie: Almost lost a patient yelling at you. Don’t you feel guilty?!?!? Annnswer.

From Erik: Everyone’s acting weird today. I think you’re pissing Liam off.

Zayn sighed and clicked into Perrie’s messages alone since she was someone he actually couldn’t avoid forever, what with living with her and all. He scrolled to her most recent message and paused.

From Perrie: Don’t I feel special. Getting the silent treatment from a guy who claims he loves me. Didn’t even come home either. I guess he could make it up to me by convincing me to call off work early so he could treat me to brunch….

From Perrie: …just sayin…

To Perrie: Wasn’t ignoring you Pez. Had a meeting. I’ll be there in 10.

From Perrie: Brilliant!! I love you.xx

To Perrie: You too, babe.

Zayn was about to toss the phone back over to the passenger seat when Liam texted again.

From Liam: Have you noticed something odd with Harry? He’s acting a little different…you aren’t going to answer are you…nope.

Zayn does toss the phone then. He really didn’t want to think about Harry and how much he’s hurt him. Fuck. His memories were enough baggage.

He tried to regain his bearings once more and slow his heart beat, but the sound of a familiar baritone bark echoed off in the distance and he was right back where he started, thoughts jumping from Mary Ann to Harry then to Perrie and then back.

Desperate for distraction, or maybe swift and sudden death, Zayn started his car and sped towards the clinic to pick up Perrie.

<><>><<><> 

They were outside since the sun had actually decided to show itself today. Perrie wanted to sit out on the side walk for brunch and he was in no position to decline anything she wanted. So there they were, Perrie still in her green scrubs; highlighted hair pulled into a bun, and Zayn probably looking as miserable as he felt, exchanging broken bits of sentences over food he definitely didn’t feel like eating.

‘Where were you last night?’ Perrie asks around her straw promptly causing Zayn to imitate stone.

Good thing he’s a habitual liar half the time, ‘babe, you know sometimes I stay later than I want to after hours. I actually did come home, but you were already gone off to work.’

‘Oh.’ She says, her pretty ice blue eyes blinking before turning onto her food once more, ‘well since it’s our anniversary week, I dropped Tetsuo off at Mary Ann’s like we discussed last month. And I’ve got to say, I think she’s actually come round to liking me.’

‘Really?’

‘No.’ Perrie deadpans. ‘When she answered the door she all but snatched the bloody leash from my hand. Nearly took a finger with it.’

And…he really doesn’t know how appropriately respond to that. Luckily she went on; her tone more concerned than angered.

‘She was jumpy. Looking around and over my shoulder like she thought someone was out to get her. Zayn…’

‘She hasn’t been answering her phone.’ Zayn thought aloud. ‘and don’t Perrie.’

Perrie raised her hands as if saying she came in peace, ‘what? I’m just suggesting that we look after her needs you know. I mean Mary Ann isn’t getting any younger. Maybe its time to put her in a home for…her age group.’

Zayn huffed, ‘She’s not a senior citizen yet. She’s barely 46. There’s nothing wrong with her.’ He’d know right? The last time he actually spoke to her she was lucid and attentive. He would be the first to know the woman who raised him’s mind was deteriorating. Right? ‘I was going to visit her soon anyway so I’ll check up on her.’

It almost burned his eyes to look over at Perrie who looked like she wanted to coo and pet him. And if the way she swallowed her food and placed her fork down gently was any indication she was going to try some form of it. ‘Zayn, sweetie, I know you love her. Hell after losing my parents so suddenly in that way and then gaining a new one only to lose her too, I would be devastated. I mean no harm. I just want to make sure she’s comfortable. Both of you actually.’

Zayn frowned and opened his mouth to speak but was shut down once more. She reached over and took his slightly shaking hand in hers, ‘you’re a strong man, Zayn. That’s one of your finest qualities, my love, but it’s okay to be scared. Fear is good, proves you’re human right?’

Zayn sighs and nods his head pitifully. He should’ve been basking in her comfort but the way she was petting his hand and blinking at him with earnest eyes nearly drove him to shed a tear. He didn’t understand why it hurt so much to look at her.

 _‘Maybe because you cheated on her’_ his thoughts echo and what the hell? Why do brains do that?

‘You’re not going to lose her.’ Perrie finalizes, eyeing his reactions. ‘She’ll be alright, we’ll be alright.’

…. ‘Okay.’

‘Now,’ she starts pulling back to look at him fully. ‘What’s really wrong with you?’

‘Eh? What do you mean?’ the hunter inquires around a salad leaf.

‘I mean you’ve been acting funny all morning. You were disturbed by something way before I brought up Mary Ann’s behaviour.’

He could break, he knows. Tell her everything about the pills, Louis, vampires, Harry, V.E.C., etc. He could’ve but he didn’t. The outcome would better with the lies.

‘Nothing, really, I’m just stressed.’

‘Zayn,’ she said after tilting her head a bit and why is everyone using this face on him today?

‘Perrie,’ he retorts.

‘How long have I known you?’

Zayn shrugs and pushes around a couple leaves of his salad slothfully, ‘a while.’

She snickers throwing her chin up little, ‘come on Edward Cullen, you can do better than that.’

A twilight jab. Sigh. ‘Almost five years, Pez.’

‘That’s right, Zaynie. And even though I’ve only dated you for nearly three of them, don’t you know I could read you better than any book?’

A small force tugged at his lips, ‘yeah, I know that.’

‘Yet you insist on trying to hide things from me, shocker.’

He tsked and wagged a finger, ‘I told you I’m stressed. Not hiding it, I’m just not elaborating it.’

Perrie pouted, the light of the sun actually catching and making her puppy dog eyes shine, ‘but you’re supposed to. Remember we spoke about this recently. You’re supposed to open up.’

He chuckled then, ‘Maybe I don’t want to break your pretty little ears.’

‘I’m all for that, hun. Lay it on me.’ she says waving her hands in a come-on gesture, really just directing his attention to the ring on her finger. ‘Tell me what’s stressing you out. I’m a nurse.’

Zayn could feel his smile widening, and knew he was about to say something witty or what not to derail the conversation but in that split second of just glancing idly over Perrie’s left shoulder caused the words to die off somewhere before they even reached his vocal chords.

_Oh God._

Zayn’s not sure what he see’s first. Those unruly curls, that illuminating smile, the dimples, or the woman hanging off his arm. It probably would be too cliché to say the mere sight of the vampire sent Zayn’s brain into overdrive, that the promise of their eventual close proximity caused his pulse to feel as if it were cracking the skin it beat under.  

Perrie finally noticing his attention was behind her turned and gasped, ‘oh, my God. It that your boss Mr. Payne?’ she asked before standing up. ‘I swear I haven’t seen him in ages.’

Oh. Liam was there….of course he was. Zayn was just too zoned in on Harry and Veronica to even notice his old friend walking in front of them. Perrie approached Liam as they came closer on the sidewalk, ‘Mr. Payne, fancy seeing you here.’

Liam, true to the veteran hunter he was, was surveying the area as he walked; eyes flinting over everything with only seconds to spare for them, so when he looked to Perrie a genuine look of surprise erased the frown etching his facial expression. ‘My, God Perrie is that really you?’

‘It is,’ Zayn heard Perrie say, but he couldn’t focus on them for long. Harry, noticing Liam was talking to someone, took a good look at Perrie and the small smile on his face immediately drops off. The next fraction of a second his eyes were on Zayn, pinning him where he sat.

He could faintly hear his name being called and jolted when the voices became louder, ‘Zayn!’ Perrie calls, ‘Come here, Liam wants to chat with you for a mo. I’m just going to get my phone.’ She says walking towards the table to dig in her bag.

Liam gives him a hard stare before talking, ‘you’re alive, that’s good.’

Zayn sighed and stiffened a little as the vampires drew closer, ‘don’t start that again.’

‘Well what am I supposed to say when you don’t answer me when I call you?’

‘You’re _supposed_ to assume I was doing something important like working, sleeping, smoking a fag.’ Zayn says not sure if he’s taking the piss or being serious. ‘Why is she getting her phone?’

Liam looks at Perrie who was talking into her phone before turning back to Zayn, ‘remember when you came to visit my mother’s last Christmas. Well Pez wanted to catch up with her, exchange recipes and all.’

‘Where’s Erik?’ Zayn asks looking around anywhere but where he wants to.

‘Around,’ basically meaning he was scouting the area. When Zayn looked around once more he spotted found Waldo walking behind a group of people a about 30 yards away appearing to be a tourist and it all made Zayn wonder what kind of lead they were onto. Then he caught Veronica’s eye as she wiggled her fingers at him.

‘What’s she doing here, then?’ he said finally turning his attention onto the two vampires linked arm and arm; who both were not burning to ashes in the sunlight. Harry seemed to be looking elsewhere while Veronica took a step forward as if she were invited into the conversation.

‘Awww, does that mean you aren’t happy to see me again, Zayn?’

‘Was I talking to you?’ he hissed causing Liam block his view of her with his body.

‘Easy,’ he says calmly. ‘You would know that information if you had answered your phone. Apparently your little chat with her this morning thawed her out a bit. She agreed to lend her eyes ears and brain to us the same as Harry had. She led us to a couple of nests today and we actually were successful…we were just about head off to another one.’

And Zayn was truly trying to listen, but that option kind of withered when he realized that Harry was staring, like flat out staring directly at his fiancé as if beckoning her to look at him.

‘Your turn now. Where were you?’ Liam asks folding his arms over his chest.

A gentle breeze frazzled the strands of his hair as he shrugged, ‘I went to go visit an old friend.’

Then Harry’s nostrils were flaring, as if he was sniffing the air and the next second his eyes were suddenly on Zayn’s person as if he were just now truly noticing that Zayn was there for the first time. He sniffed the air again.

Perrie walks up then tapping on her phone screen, ‘boys, I think you’re blocking the sidewalk.’ She says noticing the two people behind Liam. ‘I’m sorry you’ll have to excuse them—oh hello….Oh my god.’

Veronica waved her hand, her silky hair swaying gently as she points at Liam, ‘it’s alright we’re with him.’

Perrie was speechless. While Liam and Zayn stood and watched her try to react, Veronica looked as if she were holding back a giggle fit, and Harry was just staring her over again; that small crease appearing between his brow like he were trying to his hand at rocket science.

Perrie began to babble, ‘I’m sorry-so sorry for staring at you. You must want to hit me right now. I’m sorry it’s just that you look like my fiancé…him Zayn.’ She says pointing at the hunter.

Veronica nodded, ‘I know. I’m a long lost relative.’ She answers causing Perrie Zayn and Liam to frown. ‘His cousin thrice removed. Veronica.’ She finishes sticking out her right hand to Perrie who immediately took it in hers.

‘Perrie Edwards…soon to be Malik. Oh, this is exciting…I’ve yet to meet anyone directly related to him…and who’s this?’ she asked innocently, her round eyes on Harry whose own eyes were following the movements of her left hand.

‘This is Harry Styles,’ Veronica says her eyes on Zayn as she drags a hand down the length of Harry’s arm. 'Say hello.'

And as Zayn seethed on the inside probably on the outside too, Harry bowed a bit and smiled just enough that his dimples made an appearance. ‘Hello.’

For a second it looked as if Perrie were going melt. She giggled instead, ‘well he’s gorgeous. Is he yours?’

Veronica chuckled and blinked as if the words cut her, ‘no, actually he’s like a brother to me. I’ve known him for ages.’

She probably meant that.

Perrie pouted, ‘aw, well you two would have made a charming couple at the wedding. You’ll come right?’

While Liam was tapping away on his cell, Veronica was beginning to look a little uncomfortable as Harry finally let up and turned his gaze onto Zayn and it felt like running into a wall. The force of actually having him look at him real emotion brewing inside those gleaming green eyes…for a second he was sure he was going implode from it.

‘If you’ll have me,’ Veronica says with a small forced smile.

‘You’re more than welcome, both of you, right Zayn?’

And that’s where it got a little awkward because he could feel Perrie staring at him as nothing but the sound of the busy street filled the gap of conversation. And though he would’ve loved to look back her, he just couldn’t look away from the thing was seriously considering calling his literal fucking addiction. His mouth on the other hand did manage to open and close a few times…

He felt Perrie’s hand on his arm just as he gave up and looked down as if he found his shoes suddenly fascinating, ‘He means yes. Do you want my number? We could exchange information if you’d like.’

Veronica nodded, ‘yeah, alright, but I, um, I’m parched though, if you don’t mind I would like to quench my penchant for strawberry limeade first.’

‘Oh!’ Perrie exclaims, sort of starling the lot of them, ‘the place Zayn and I were just eating at has the best in this part of London.’ She points to where their half eaten brunch was, ‘it’s just there, and it’s cheap too.’

A smile spread over Veronica’s features, ‘well, Harold. Would you care to treat a lady to some cheap strawberry limeade?’

‘Come on.’ Zayn heard and he’s almost certain he feels the heat of Harry’s body when the two walk pass him. Zayn looked up just in time to see the vampires turn into the gate and head up the path towards the restaurants’ front door.

He can still feel the weight of Perrie’s gaze when Liam’s phone shrilled loudly, ‘excuse me, I’ve got to take this,’ he says before walking a bit further and answering it.

He’s not sure how long he’s been standing in that spot but then he finally feels Perrie tugging at him, ‘Zayn what’s wrong? You’re acting weirder than normal.’

When he still doesn’t answer, he feels himself being lead towards their table. ‘Sit down, honey. My, god you’re really pale….Zayn you look like you’re about to fall into a panic attack.’

Which was…accurate he supposes. Zayn drags his eyes onto the glass window where he could see the back of Harry’s head as they waited in line, and he wants to run to him, so badly he wanted to yell out his name just to get Harry to look at him again. He wanted forgiveness. He wanted him.

‘Are you alright, Zayn?’ Perrie asks drawing his attention back to her.

Zayn wasn’t even sure if he was capable of lying to anyone right now let alone her, so he shrugs.

Her small hand reached over to tip his chin up, ‘babe, you know you can tell me anything. Anything. No matter how long we’ve been together, I was your best friend before I was your fuck buddy. Remember?’

That drew a surprised chuckle out of him as she smiled in return.

‘Now are you going to tell me what this is about?’ she says placing her head onto an open palm. It took a shaky breath rattling out of him to encourage her pressing the matter, ‘would you like me to guess?’

That’s when he looked at her and almost cried. She was looking at him like she knew so much already, that she understood as much as he wasn’t telling just yet. She looked resigned and comforting all at once; like she knew exactly who caused him to feel this way.

Then he heard it. Since Zayn had often found himself replaying the rasp of Harry’s deep voice, he was sure it was the very one briefly echoing off the walls from inside the restaurant and then _BOOM!_

Before Zayn could even turn and react the windows of the restaurant blew out with the force of the explosion causing Zayn to tumble as his chair fell over, the side of his face stinging as tendrils of flames momentarily licked at it. On the ground his ears rung as people around him scurried and screamed in terror. Through the haze of panic and dusty sediment falling all around him, Zayn pushed himself to get up, to lift his body enough to peer into the restaurant windows.

When he did, his lungs put out at the sight of the once beautiful eatery doused in a crowd of rowdy flames. And he lost it, his heart tearing to bits as he realized the spot where Harry was standing only moments before was swallowed by furls of orange howling flames.

But then he heard the crack before he felt it and fell to the ground once more with the force of the large slab of stone that decided to fall onto the top of his skull.

‘ZAYN!’ he heard distantly, though it was too late. By the time blonde singed hair appeared in his vision, he had lost most of it to darkness. The last thought resonating through the swirl of his waning consciousness was like a prayer.

_Harry._

**< ><>><<><> **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn Zayn got knocked the fuck out. So what’s up with Mary Ann? Veronica is Zayn’s cousin!?!!?! How many of you saw that one coming? (All of you? Oh.) And is Perrie onto something? What exactly is Louis’s role? Are you aware of whom this nephew he speaks of is?? What of that explosion? Is Hazza alright??? Oh the torture. Anyway, thanks to all for reading and sticking around through my tardiness. Thank you to zarry3 (Jeri_1116), moni, Otty, SavetheOwls, and adri_ana for commenting thoughts and encouragement. its always welcome. Till next time, keep smiling <3<3<3


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed Sheeran’s Bloodstream was so my muse for this.  
> TW: two barely there panic attacks.

**< ><>><<><> **

Bells….he could hear bells. They were ringing a flat tune of tinnitus highly pitched in the caverns of his ears. His cheek stung, his skull was thumping, and he could feel wetness crowding at the corner of his eyes.

He felt heavy and weightless at once, like a brick house floating through channels of galaxies. But then there was a hand, small and soft petting at his uninjured cheek. Slowly, it ebbs the tendrils of darkness off with the first crack of colour he sees when his eyes open.

Black smoke billowed out of what remained of the window of the restaurant and from where he laid it was eerily familiar. The outlines of people running about the scenery danced in his peripheral, and then he was aware of the knees tucked against the nape of his neck.

Perrie’s face loomed over his, darkened with soot. She was so beautiful to him in that second, eyes sparkling, hair falling out of the bun, lips moving around words he couldn’t hear yet. But then as he blinked at the glow of orange that suddenly lit the halo of her head, he never thought his stomach could disappear so fast.

Harry….

Harry?

HARRY!!!

Oh, god, Harry.

It was like a chant, a plea, a prayer, and a swear. Zayn was off of Perrie’s lap probably a bit before he should’ve, pushing onto his knees as his eyes swung around wildly. It was when he caught sight of the fire still burning inside the small eatery that he realized the first thing he was able to hear was the suffrage his heart was experiencing.

‘Zayn,’ Perrie calls then. ‘Zayn, baby, you shouldn’t be moving so much.’

He felt the warmth of her palm tugging at his wrist, ‘Come sit on the curb for a minute. Zayn!’

She yells and it’s probably because he literally yanks away from her touch and moves to stand on uncoordinated limbs. He wanted to apologize, maybe plead with her to understand, but it wasn’t surprising, to Zayn even in his state of mind, that the first word that tumbles up his throat and off his tongue is, ‘Harry.’

‘Zayn, you just took a major blow to the skull. You are not to be moving around. Sit. Down.’ Perrie demands and he thinks he should listen. She’s a nurse. She ought to know what’s she’s talking about right?

But again, ‘Harry.’ was basically his mindset because his legs were moving before he could comprehend what exactly it was he was going to do about anything.

‘Zayn wha-’ she starts but he couldn’t. Just…not right now.

He turns back and looks at her, his own eyes drilling into her confused ones, ‘Perrie please. I have to get H-Harry….I have to get to him…’

He turned back onto his path towards the blown out door so quickly that he had missed the way her eyes were practically bulging out of her head. ‘What? NO! Zayn you can’t-’

As soon as he stepped onto the blackened stone of the restaurant floor, the heat hit him as hard as the coughing fit he went into did. His lungs hacking up on the air it couldn’t take in and what it already had.

‘Harry,’ he bellows, throat feeling as if he’s swallowed magma. ‘HARRY!’

Zayn stepped around the portions of small fires curling individually and made towards the counter only stopping when he realized he was almost exactly where Harry had been standing. Still nothing. The smoke was beginning to burn the tissue of his inner nose as he called out again, ‘Harry, fucking answer me!’

He’s yelling out through the impending bout of coughs coming on when his foot hits something solid. He looks down, brows knitting together as he tried to see through the smoke clouds puffs around him. It took a second, but as he put aside the fact that the sound of crackling flames was getting louder, he noticed it was a body.

A female body, and if he was certain that he wasn’t off the rails, he would deny that the pencil skirt hugged tightly around half burned legs looked exactly like the one Veronica was wearing today. The silky blue shirt (or what remained of it) as well.

Zayn could feel his chest tightening as he took in the strands of the long brown hair spilling over her shoulder, and then to the side of her face exposed and flaking from the blistering heat, eye open underneath the crooked glasses.

There laid the woman with skin tone matching his to a T: bloody Veronica Malik.

He heaved then, his torso keeling over as his throat attempted to push out the small amount of food he had allowed himself to ingest earlier. ‘Harry.’ he cries after spitting and wiping meekly at his mouth. If she was there, where the fuck was Harry then?

Zayn stared numbly into the flames that had receded beyond Veronica’s corpse and over the counter where they continued to climb out of the kitchen and towards the ceiling. His breath was coming short, chest aching, and stomach threatening to find something to retch on. Pins and needles prickled at his fingers and toes as less and less oxygen got to them.

‘Harry.’ he pleads silently pitifully, digits itching to pull out the hair he spent so much time investing in. It didn’t matter.

‘Harry, please.’ he tries again, but he couldn’t fucking breathe, couldn’t see through the moisture and sediment clouding against his corneas.

Zayn, spinning head and knocking knees, was so close to passing out that he hadn’t caught onto the fact that a firm grip had hold of him until he was literally being dragged away of the burning bits of the restaurant and out the side entranceway into the alley.

Sunlight seared into his retinas a second before his back was being pressed against the cool brick of the restaurant wall.

Zayn’s eyes, wet and stinging from whatever micro molecules decided to land in them, blinked furiously as his lungs rejoiced at the supply of air not riddled with pollutants. They may have rejoiced too quickly because he fell into another coughing fit soon after the first initial inhale.

Zayn pushes against the restrictive hand over his chest and literally wails when he doesn’t gain a centimeter. He needed to go back. He needed to find Harry.      

‘Get off me, man.’ He hears himself hiss, his hands clawing at the large one pressed to his shoulder, ‘let the fuck go.’

‘You need to calm down.’ A familiar voice counters, pressure increasing the slightest. ‘Relax.’

And just like that the burning inside his intestines cooled to a puddle of warmth, his fingers instead of clawing seized with vigor, his eyes burning from general usage desperately moved to drink in the image before him like a man dying from starvation.

Harry looked….well for the lack of better words fucking flawless. Not a hair misplaced, a scratch in sight or a singe marring his clothes. ‘Were you deliberately trying to off yourself? God, you’re a fucking moron you know that?’ Harry says with a chuckle wry with disbelief, the hand on Zayn’s shoulder slides up to the side of his neck, ‘you good?’

Zayn’s gazing through irritated eyes and into the green gems he’s lost himself in at night. He wants to respond positively, be a man and Gorilla Glue the guarded walls crumbling around him back together, but he doesn’t. Instead he shakes his head and takes the material of Harry’s shirt into fists, ‘I can’t b-breathe H-Harry.’

‘Try,’ Harry suggests before stepping back and digging into his pocket to fetch his ringing phone. ‘Liam,’ he starts before the man on the other line got out a word.

Zayn thinks actually he might be dying, then. He feels like he’s falling and flying at once, spiraling like a airplane missing a wing. He’s bursting with relief that that Harry’s alive, chest squeezing uncomfortably at the thought of what he have done if Harry wasn’t. What he would have done had he lost him.

‘Zayn, you need to breathe,’ he hears next to his ear and then the body heat is gone again. ‘It was a mission. A hit. I know because of the smell of the explosives, I could recognize it from a mile away.’ Harry spits into the receiver.

His breath does stop then…. Harry has a hit on him?

‘I’m fine.’ Harry says into the phone while eyeing Zayn as the hunter clutched at the muscles in Harry’s biceps; pulling him closer so he could (since he’s hyperventilating) at least suck in the fresh spicy scent that was Harry Styles.

Harry pulls the phone from his ear again to whisper into Zayn’s ear once more ‘Zayn—’

It was like reflex, as soon as face came into distance, Zayn’s lips were on his cheek; peppering the smooth skin there as efficiently as he could in his state and taking great pleasure in hearing Harry’s breath stutter under his ministrations.

Slowly… _slowly_ …his lips slid across the smooth faultless skin when Harry decided to lift his head and look into his eyes. The first brush of their lips is brief, Zayn’s breath stuttering against Harry’s pink ones, and then Harry’s groaning and shoving his tongue into Zayn’s mouth quite literally stealing the breath straight out of his lungs before nipping at the contours of his lips.

And then he’s gone again, eyes glued to Zayn’s as he backs away a step and lifts the phone again. And Zayn wants to whine like the needy blood whore he’s ultimately becoming, but on the flip side. He can breathe now.

The sound of Liam’s distress is as clear as the sirens and chaos taking place around them. ‘I’m fine Liam, we’re fine. We’re all out… except for Ronnie— I tried to warn her but we were already too late…she jumped in front of me and took the brunt of the blast. I couldn’t get to—she’s gone.’

Zayn frowns at the sadness tarnishing the rasp of Harry’s voice and pulls the vampire back into his space, shuddering when he came with zero reluctance. He’s grazing his palms over the vampire’s pecs and nudging the spot where a dimple would be with his nose. Like a reminder.

Harry’s shaking his head at whatever Liam’s saying, ‘I’ve already tailed the scent but lost it. I don’t recognize it much. You could call for a investigation if you’d like.’

There’s a pause then that drags a sigh through the crack of Harry’s lips.

‘Yes, yes I’m sure.’ Harry’s drawling into his phone, physically relaxing under Zayn’s touch, ‘who wouldn’t place a hit on me…I am helping the Vampiric Exploration and Confinement Corporations hunt down vampires after all. A right traitor I am.’

Then Harry’s leaning into the palm Zayn had tucking an unruly curl behind the tuft of his ear, causing Zayn to make a soft noise in reply. For a moment something’s crackling between the two of them as they gaze into the other’s eyes. The pulley of whatever kind of connection they had pushing them even closer together so that Harry’s bracketing Zayn with the bulk of his arm.

‘Right,’ Harry says dragging his eyes down the front of Zayn’s body. ‘We should regroup. Find Erik before he pisses himself. I’ll find you. Bye.’

By the time Harry’s pulling the phone from his ear and tucking it into his pocket, Zayn already has both of his hands placed on Harry’s cheeks, fingertips sliding effortlessly over the apple of them coaxing a small smile that he copies.

Now he’s got his fingers winding into the tangle of curls behind Harry’s ear, gently guiding the plump of the vampire’s lips back onto his own. The taste of them drives Zayn to go for that cliché inhale as Harry’s large warm hands spayed over the side of his neck and suddenly Zayn’s silently thanking whatever deity out there that cares about his needs, because had things gone the opposite…Zayn was sure it would’ve pushed him further off the edge he’d been teetering on for the pass two days.

He tightens fingers a second before sliding down Harry’s chest and over the bumps of his shoulders to dig his nails into the skin underneath the fabric. Harry makes a sound like he’s about to tear apart before Zayn mumbles into his mouth, ‘don’t ever do that to me again.’

It has the taller man pulling him closer and sucking tip of Zayn’s tongue into his mouth. Zayn pulls back to look at him, waits until Harry catches his breath and opens his eyes and then pulls Harry (if possible) closer to press their foreheads together.

‘I can’t go through that again.’ He continues,  eyes screwed shut so he misses the heartbreak on Harry’s features. But Zayn can feel his emotions working up again and promising to spill upward with the likes of a volcano. ‘I can’t Harry. if I lose—’ he tries, voice dying out before he gets far, but Zayn eventually shakes his head and lifts his lashes to look at him, ‘if you leave me I—’

‘Don’t.’ Harry cuts in and Zayn can feel everything so clearly, can recognize the emotions he was sure he’d never feel again before he had met Harry. He’s whimpering and shaking almost like that of a abandoned puppy. ‘Don’t talk like that. No one’s losing anything. I’m not going anywhere I swear.’

And even though Zayn’s nodding at the reassurance,  he’s still clutching onto Harry as if afraid me may have already been hallucinating this entire conversation. Like if he’d let go off him, they would be back inside of the restaurant; Zayn literally dying from the toxic air and Harry laid out burned to a crisp like Veronica. Like his family.

‘Hey, hey,’ Harry’s cajoling, doing his best to keep his eyes placed on Zayn’s wandering ones, ‘look at me. You’re not going to lose me.’

What follows is silence as silent as an active crime scene can be on an open street, but he’s staring at Zayn like he should already know what he’s saying to be true. His eyes, shiny and piercing all but screaming at him that the idea was virtually impossible.

And that’s probably what does it, the fact that Harry’s not bothering to use the words Zayn thinks he probably needs to hear, instead projecting them with the way he’s looking at him, the way his thumbs are steadily rubbing circles over the skin of his jawbones.

So he’s nodding. Feeling like cotton had been Velcro ripped from his eyes because he could see now, he feels so naked and venerable that he tries to smother himself in Harry. ‘Okay…’

Suddenly the warmth of Harry’s mouth is back over his and his knees finally give out. Harry’s working his tongue over the seam of his lips and grunting in approval when Zayn grants his wishes. It’s so languid and sensual that it literally feels like he’s licking fire; the precise swipe of Harry’s tongue so sudden and hot it almost mimics ice.

Zayn can distinctively feel the spontaneous growth of Harry’s fangs elongating and it has him sliding further down the wall, Harry placing a leg between his quivering one’s as his strong arms support Zayn’s body. His enthusiasm surprises Zayn, the way his lips are around his tongue and then over the curve of his cupid’s bow the next moment, so Zayn cant exactly help the way his body responds by jerking.

The way both of their voices mingle at the action only fuels the way his pants are tightening, and then he’s running his tongue over the sharp end of his fangs while trailing his hands down to grip the curve of Harry’s arse and pulling his hips forward once more.

And it’s magical really. The way being tangled up in Harry causes him to forget that the world is falling from beneath his feet. The kiss is searing quick and sharp with the careful work of Harry’s plush tongue so confusing this concoction that Zayn doesn’t know which end to pay attention to. The miracle work Harry’s mouth is performing or the way their hips are stuttering towards one another.

Zayn doesn’t even wince when he bangs his head hard again the brick wall at the movement, instead craning his neck so that Harry scorch a path of kisses down the side.

It’s utterly reminiscent of the first time he’d kissed Harry; his back pressed against the stone of a brick wall, hips grounding into one another’s; the sparks of desperation bubbling from both of their actions just as stagnant and meaningful as they had been that day. The soft noises leaving Harry’s mouth just the same as well.

What was also akin to that day is the fact that Harry pulls back first, his tan hands halting the sinful rhythm of their hips, mouth blowing warm heavy breaths into Zayn's open one.

Zayn throttles his complaints and opens his eyes to look at him.

His arousal instantly falls at the troubled look blighting the vampire’s handsome face, brow furrowed over his shrewd closed orbs. ‘Zayn.’ he mumbles, lips brushing against the hunters and then he’s pulling away further, ‘we can’t.’

There went his stomach again. He’s making grabbing hands at Harry’s disappearing warmth and stifling a desperate cry, ‘Harry don’t.’

Harry’s shaking his head and taking careful steps away from him, ‘we can’t, Zayn. I can’t. I will not become my father.’

Zayn thinks he might be panicking again, ‘you said…but you said you wouldn’t—’ he tries but he cant register the sentence…can’t really stomach the thought of Harry leaving him in this state. But he feels Harry’s body heat again and his breath fanning over his face.

Harry makes a strange noise then. A growl mixed over with a groan, maybe. ‘You are utterly infuriating, Zayn. I have standards, you know. Morals. A line I draw in between just what is a bit too inhumane even for a creature like me, but you….ruin them so effortlessly that I cant even find the energy to be properly upset about it.’ He’s saying, his green eyes looking heavenward as if searching for the right words.

Meanwhile Zayn probably looks like he’s trying not to die at his words, because he’s clutching at Harry’s shirt again, ‘Harry.’ he says pitifully.

‘I can’t seem to stay away from you, is the problem.’ Harry continues placing one hand over the bridge of his nose and the other on the side of Zayn’s face. ‘No matter how hard I try, you pull me back. So as I said before I’m not leaving you. Not really, I’m just giving you an ultimatum.’

For a second, Zayn’s heart stops so suddenly that he sure that it wouldn’t start back up, but then Harry’s lips are over his in a soft brush of lips, ‘I am yours Zayn, completely. Have been since the moment I saw your beautiful face. I think we both know that I’d let you keep me for however long you want…but I’ve got enough self respect not to be a side piece, love. As much as I hate my father I’m not very keen on becoming my mother either.’

 _Am I shivering?_ Zayn is thinking because he’s suddenly so cold that he brain seems to move slower due to it. He’s looking into Harry’s beautiful eyes and blinks at him, ‘you’re saying….’

Harry shakes his head, dimples flashing with the quick way his lips droop upwards, ‘whatever you’re going to say there are your words.’ He’s nudging the side of Zayn’s face with the tip of his nose, ‘the balls in your court now, babe. When you decide, I get the feeling we’ll both know it.’

Then he hears it, the both of them reacting to Perrie’s voice frantically calling out his name in the distance. He could only guess that firemen are holding her back from flying into the blazing building after him since he had yet to emerge from where he had went in.

Zayn’s the first to replace his eyes on the vampire, watching as Harry slowly blinks at the sound of her voice and then drags his head back towards him. Zayn doesn’t even try to pretend that the way his eyes sort of flutter has anything to do with their earlier irritation. That Harry doesn't fucking wind him with the simplest actions.

Then Harry’s smiling for a lithe of a second and moving closer to place a sweet kiss over the corner of Zayn’s lips, ‘don’t keep me waiting too long, yeah?’ he drawls.

And abruptly the heat of him is gone as wuick as it came. He’s using his vampiric speed to jet off in the other direction most likely to meet up with Liam. And Zayn sucks in air he wasn’t even aware he had been depriving himself of.

His fingers are moving absently over the skin still burning over the brand that was Harry as he moves on shaky legs towards the sound of Perrie’s voice. This day has officially become a waking fucking nightmare for him.

**< ><>><<><> **

Zayn’s quiet on the ride back to their flat. Perrie taking the wheel thinking it best that she drove, and Zayn pressing his throbbing head onto the cool glass of the window.

She probably was still a little peeved not only at the stunt he had pulled running into a burning building in all, but also because Zayn had pleaded, no, insisted that they didn’t get him checked out at the hospital.

Frankly, Zayn couldn’t find it in himself to care, he bathed himself in the quite hum of his engine, losing himself in the memories he shred before and after he had met Perrie.

His eyes not really focusing on the fleeting landscape as it passed him by the same as they had done when Perrie had first caught sight of him and leapt into his arms, same as they both watched the firemen hose down the restaurant for hours until day began to bleed into night.

Perrie could tell he was out of it, probably thinking that Zayn was reeling over not being able to find Harry or summat. So she didn’t bother to speak, not even to touch after he barely reacted to her joy at seeing him alive.

So there he was breathing unevenly as flashes of he and Perrie skittered open like a film over a movie screen. Perrie bringing home a chocolate coloured Chantilly kitten with eyes to match. He remembers the stupid wide eyed look the kitten gave him as Perrie mirrored it and begged him to let her keep it.

He’s thinking about all the dinner’s they had over Mary Ann’s, he trying not to laugh at Mary Ann’s snooty attitude towards Perrie, and Perrie taking it all like it a walk in the park.

He’s thinking of all the times she’s screamed at Tetsuo and blamed him for killing her kitten Tinkerbelle, but then how she would walk him and take him to the park to play fetch.

And then he’s thinking of the first day they met in that off brand coffee shop where he was getting away from a mission he had just completed. He remembers her walking in blonde shoulder length hair whipping about with the simple motion of a head swing.

She orders a hot beverage and then walks it over to an open table. It’s only when she was almost completely passed him when she spotted him and came to abrupt stop in turn spilling her drink down the front of him. He still has a scab from the burns.

He remembers smiling as she apologizes fiercely for a second and couldn’t help gazing into her crystal blue eyes and then her rushing off to demand a wet towel from the kitchen, coming back afterwards with an unsure look on her face as she hands it to him. He knew he was smitten then, and soon after when she buys him anything he wanted from the menu and made fun of the blonde strip of his quiff he had dyed back then.

Perrie was perfect; sweet and stern and conniving and determined to be there for him. One would say she was it for him because there was simply no point in denying that he had loved her with everything he could emotionally give. But Zayn grimaced as he thought about what Harry had said earlier.

Yeah, he’s a proper asshole half the time, but he had enough self respect not to string anyone along.

When Perrie finally cuts the engine he barely realizes he's in motion, hands opening the door and moving so mechanically an emo kid would be jealous. He misses the way Perrie is just watching him, her eyes filled with sorrow he wouldn’t be able to take if he had actually looked at her.

The flat is dark and quieter since there isn’t a 5 foot salt and pepper coloured dog trotting his way to greet him with his booming barks. If possible that actually saddens him more probably because it was clear the both of them knew where this night was going…and that the fact that Tetsuo isn’t here just proves what a sham all of this is in the end.

It doesn’t surprise him that his chest starts to hurt worse than his head. But through his turmoil he can hear Perrie setting the alarm over the flat and then her hand is guiding him to a chair in the dining room as she fleets off to get the first aid kit and some peas.

Zayn’s thinking that maybe he should let up on the white knuckled grip he has on the edge of the metal chair, because he can feel the crescent shapes of his nails embedding into the flesh of his palm, and then Perrie’s there, ‘You’re bleeding, babe. Here,’ she says.

When he looks up to spot her holding out the towel just as she had the day they met, it takes everything he has not to yell his head off and tear his hair out. He must look as helpless as he feels because she’s suddenly pulling a chair up next to him placing the peas over his skull while pressing the cool cloth over his forehead.

‘You’re a mess you know?’ she says with a shake of her head, ‘what on earth were you thinking Zayn?’

‘Wasn’t really,’ he answers honestly, voice rough from all the screaming and coughing.

‘Should have figured,’ Perrie says going for something lighthearted, but the smile starting to curl her lips falls when Zayn raises his honey eyes to hers. And it’s quiet for a good moment, Perrie eyes roaming over his face as Zayn stares at her.

Trying to feel what he could’ve guessed he wouldn’t. When it doesn’t come he swallows down whatever form of disappointment and indecision he had lingering on the way over. He couldn’t do this.

‘Per Bear.’ He says raising a shaking hand to pull the towel from her fingers and then pulling them in so he can kiss the ivory of her knuckles, ‘You know I love you right?’

Perrie….honestly looks half passed frightened. ‘Of course I do. Zayn—’

‘You know I would do anything for you. That I’d never intentionally hurt you, right?’ he says blinking away the way his eyes are starting blur and burn. ‘You know me a little better than anyone right?’

‘Yes to all.’ she says frowning something fierce.

‘Then,’ he starts only to break off to clear his throat, ‘then you know I can’t do this anymore.’

There's a pause and then-

‘This?’ her hand atop his skull slipping a bit.

He snuffs out a gross chuckle,  ‘this.’ He says using a finger to wave between their bodies, ‘Us Pez. I can’t.’

The hand holding the peas does drop then, causing the peas to fall to the floor with a wet thunk. Her eyes are wide, ‘Are you serious?’

The disbelief in her voice does nothing to soften the blows his heart was suffering at this, ‘I do love you, Perrie. Always will. But we’re supposed to be _in_ love…and what I feel for you just—’

‘Isn’t enough?’ she cuts in a bit nastily and he wants to deny that until he’s blue in the face but it’s pointless to disagree.

‘It isn’t doesn’t fit that category. I’ve witnessed someone being in love mutually. My parents in fact and we don’t have that. I’m sorry.’

‘Wow,’ she says leaning back a bit in her chair. ‘Wow.’

Not really wanting to twist the knife, he hesitates but feels the need to explain, ‘as fucked up as it sounds aloud I need you to know that I’m not only doing this because I love you, but also because I care about you. I mean—I’m not willing to put you through staying with me knowing I don’t feel the same way. Us getting married and me mistreating you and resenting you because you love me in a way that I don’t love you. D-does that make sense?’

Perrie’s eyes are kind of glassy but she actually nods, her face switching over to something of utter shock, ‘Oh my— you’re in love with someone else aren’t you?’

Zayn flinches before shrinking back a little under her piercing gaze. He hears her release a gentle breath before, ‘you are.’

Great. Now he can’t look at her.

Suddenly Perrie's leaning forward, the words seeming to fly out her mouth before she can stop them.  ‘It’s that guy isn’t it? Harry? The one you almost killed yourself for.’

Zayn sighs pathetically and digs his palms into the sockets of his eyes, feeling like the room is spinning around him. ‘I knew for sure after that, but I could tell by the way you looked at him all huddled up with your cousin. I’m sure if she wasn’t a girl you would have hit her.’

‘Perrie can we not—’

‘We can and we will.’ She says sternly and he can feel her glare from behind the shields of his hands. ‘He’s what’s had you acting all funny all this time, yanking away from me, spending extra time in the shower. I could tell because the way you looked at him in the street was the way you were supposed to be looking at me so….I guess I already knew.’

She says chuckling over the pain seeping through her tone, ‘I knew. Yet it still hurts like a bitch to hear.’

Zayn pulls his hands from his damp eyes to find her rubbing at her sternum, ‘I’m so sorry Perrie.’

‘Me too.’ She says her hand coming up to brush an uninvited tear off his cheek before it seeped into his beard, ‘this is what you want, then?’

A breath shudders out of him as he sniffles, ‘I’m not willing to hurt you just because I think I should stay with you. I can’t do that to you. To us.’

And then she’s allowing herself to cry in front of him, her tears a torrent of solace and acceptance and she’s pulling Zayn in to press her forehead against his the same way he had done Harry. Except this time it hurts, the way he’s trying to hold her as tightly as he can without hurting her even more than he already has.

His head threatening to implode from the way he’s even bothering to hold back the tears sliding down his cheeks at the sound of her sorrow. And it tears something in him, because the sound reminds him that this very well may be the last time he holds her.

‘Guess that settles it then.’ she voices, thick voice stuttering a bit as her breath fans over the wet trail his tears had left behind. ‘You’ve always been stubborn when it came to what you want.’

When she pulls back, it’s all he can do not to wrap a palm around the nape of her neck and keep her there a little longer, ‘You do love him right?’

He raises his head feeling as if sandpaper had been rubbed over his corneas, ‘so much I can’t even comprehend it.’

‘Good.’ Perrie says through an exhale, ‘Because I know you love me Zayn. Everyone who has witnessed us as a couple could tell, and they’ve all said to me that if you had ever left me, it better be for a damn good reason. He’d better love you too.’

Zayn can’t stop the delirious laugh that leaves him then, ‘this is sucha weird conversation Pez.’

She’s wiping at her face but it seems kind of futile, ‘You cant blame a girl for trying. I meant what I said about the friends before lover’s thing. But I am sorry for invading.’

He says trying his best to catch her face through his blurry vision. ‘You’re sorry?’

‘Stop making it seem like I’m mad at you. I accept it so easily not because I don’t love you to pieces, but because I can’t make you feel something you don’t. I mean if I could I would have done it the day we met, but this isn’t a Rowling novel.’

There goes her flare for wit again but when he tries to laugh it sounds more like he’s having a grand mal seizure. Choked and helpless.

‘I love you Perrie. I do. Never forget that.’ He tells her as strongly as he can around the way his tongue feels like it might unlatch and fall down his throat.

And it has her leaning over to press a hand to his cheek, her face in front of his once more. ‘Me too, Zayn. I love you too.’ But it's when he feels her prying his hand off of the chairs edge to place something round and metal into his open hand that he fucking breaks to bits.

She’s shushing him before he crumbles completely and folding his fingers over the ring, squeezing them gently, ‘kiss me.’

He does without a second thought— or first more like. Their tear damp lips sliding easily over the others and it would have been a proper kiss goodbye had their faces stopped turning down with the way they tried not to cry into each other mouths.

Perrie’s caressing his cheek as she pulls back to peck at his face, ‘I’m gonna go.’ She says with one last hint of pressure on his lips and then she’s standing. ‘I’m going to Jesy’s. Calling a cab since I left my car at work…I need a little walk you know?’

She says as if she’s trying to explain a reason to get away from him. He wants to tell her she doesn’t have to but she’s already walking to the threshold of the kitchen door when she stops, ‘we’ll work the living arrangement tomorrow. I’ll see you around Zayn. Don’t do anything stupid.’

He's sitting at the dinning table clenching Perrie’s engagement ring in a tight fist when he hears the front door close. He can feel the warmth of a fat tear run down to dangle at the tip of his nose as he blurrily stares at the fist and digs his nails deeper into the palm. It's dark, vacant, and lonely inside the coldness of his flat and he’s suddenly too small for the width of the room.

 _I cant do this._ He thinks scooting back his chair to dig into the mouth of his pocket to retrieve is phone. His thumb sliding across the screen before tapping onto the name of the person he calls for everything. Mary Ann’s name pulsated across screen as the phone continued to ring…just like it had earlier before her voicemail picked up.

He’s calling Liam a little after and the voicemail he gets from him is partially dedicated to him.

_Hey, you missed me. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you when I can._

_Zayn if this is you. I thought you should know I tried to call you earlier but couldn’t reach you. The Board agreed to let me take Harry to a safe place seeing as he has a bounty over his head now. We wont be back for days._

_Be safe._

He goes towards the missed alerts on his phone and sure enough he has about 9 missed calls from Liam. They must’ve happened during that lapse where he was staring at the firemen put out the last of the flames.

And then he’s moving over to the living room just cursing his life, his choices, and the stupid love he seems to have for hurting himself. As he lies there curled in fetal position on the couch that distinctly smells like Tetsuo and he thinks he’s about to panic.

Mary Ann’s not answering, he JUST broke off the only thing he could’ve considered a platform to keep him afloat, and now he doesn’t even have his dog to here to whine at him and lick away his tears. He doesn’t realize he’s hyperventilating until his lungs’ struggle for air turned into a rack of full bodied sobs he hasn’t found himself doing in over 13 years.

When he’s finally calmed down some, eyes sore, throat full of mucus he prays to whoever decides it’s fun to fuck him over to make things get better. He prays that Mary Ann is alright. That Perrie still wants to know him. That Harry doesn’t die. Because, truthfully he doesn’t think he could survive the night at the thought of either of those fancies going wayward.

Zayn drifts into a restless slumber, all cried out after wishing he had Harry there to hold him.  

**< ><>><<><> **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :( Poor Zayn. I almost cried writing this and picturing him cry like that. He deserves nothing but happiness (real Zayn and/or fic Zayn). Ok so this fic is officially over a year old annnd I’m still writing it. Damn I’m slow. Obviously I couldn’t update on Thanksgiving so happy belated holidays guys. I honestly wish to be done with this by Christmas time and since I estimate about 3 more chapters it’ll be a shame if it’s not. Annnyway, as always thanks for reading and for giving kudos. Shout-outs to Mccutie22, abra, adri_ana, baba, zarry3 (Jeri_1116), ZaynCentric, moni, and sashra for commenting support and enthusiasm. Always makes me smile. Till next time, Byyyyyyeee.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s two days late, but since when is that a surprise, really?

**< ><>><<><> **

Zayn wakes up to a stream of sunlight trying its best to bake the side of his forehead. He lays there letting a sigh roll out as he listened to the hum of the heating system buzzing about the room, his feet tangled in the thick folds of his duvet.

It’s been this way the past three days. This thing where Zayn goes into what his mother used to all ultra lazy Zayn mode where he kind of sticks in one spot for God knows however long and doesn’t really move, doesn’t bother to put a comb through his head, doesn’t even dare look at a razor to shave. He’d probably hiss at it more like.

Though, admittedly, he’s better. Even though Perrie’s no longer around and her shit is out of the flat, he feels like he’s barely made a attempt at being calmer, nicer to those around him, but somehow he is? Seeing as more people approach Zayn at work whenever he decides to show up, regardless of the fact that he probably looks like the walking corpse of a diseased hobo.

Since he’s neglected a proper shower in over 48 hours he probably smells like one too, still the matter is irrelevant. Especially to Erik Henrick. It’s something he’d probably never give his partner the pleasure of hearing, but having him around hovering and pestering in that way that used to irk him was actually the only thing that kept him going in the absence of those closest to him.

Zayn remembers the day he had spent at home after Liam and Harry’s departure, how he had laid tangled in the sheets; teeth chattering since he didn’t even attempt to get up and turn the dial of the heat up, and then his doorbell was ringing.

Erik said afterwards that he’d wished he had a camera to capture the utter shock on Zayn’s face when he opened the door to find the baby blondehaired man there with a gentle smile on his face.

Part of him wanted to snap and tell Erik to piss off like he usually did, but then somehow Erik’s face got impossibly rounder, cherub-er, and then he’s holding up a white paper bag. And as soon as the smell of the omelet inside of it hit his nose, Zayn was snatching the bag out of Erik’s dangling hand and ushering him inside while muttering something about him being a godsend.

He’s turned up at his flat everyday since, says nothing about Liam making him do it, and just talks to him about everything and nothing at all which…Zayn’s okay with. It took his mind off things. It was when he was alone or trying to lull himself to sleep when he starts to think.

It’s almost comical; the look on Erik’s face whenever he comes out of the loo in Zayn’s flat to find Zayn sitting on the couch with that far off void look on his face again, but it’s something he couldn’t completely avoid.

No matter how much Erik tries to distract him with stories about his mother’ cooking or how he “once had a parrot that got swallowed by a whale,” Zayn begins to ponder and wonder about all things Harry in general. Or how Liam is, Perrie’s life now, and Mary Ann.

The latter is almost up there with Harry in the thought quota. All he can think about is how much he wants to see her, how much he wants to talk to her, all the questions he’s got pressed against his tonsils about his father…how she still isn’t answering her phone.

And after running a wet towel over his body and half heartedly brushing at his teeth, he’s doing just that. Sitting on his long couch in the living room, back pressed into the arm as he stares at his phone screen telling him just how many phone calls he’s made to Mary Ann’s phone line in the past 5 minutes.

|Mary Ann Patts (12)

He’s considering trying again when the front door opens causing the alarm to beep minutely. Zayn being so immersed, a thumb hovering over Mary Ann’s name once more, doesn’t even flinch at the intrusion or the cold outside air that greets the back of his neck.

Probably because he already knew who it was.

He’s already teased Erik about how comfortable he appears to be getting with the copy of the flat key Perrie left behind. Zayn’s tapping Mary Ann’s name again and lifting the phone to his ear when the door closes and footsteps enter the room he’s in.

‘Ah, you’re up and about. That’s progress.’ Erik says in that psychiatrist voice he has. When Zayn merely hums he sits down at one of the chairs across from Zayn near the chimney. ‘Eh, you still sort of look like a mongrel so I doubt you’ve _actually_ showered. Anyway I brought you breakfast.’ He says tossing the white paper bag onto the glass table between them.

‘Thanks.’ Zayn offers as he listens to the line ring in his ear. He can tell Erik’s working up to something, eyeing Zayn in an anxious way as he twiddles with his thumbs.

‘It’s the same omelet you’ve had for the past two days, is that alright?’ he starts innocently enough.

‘Yeah, ’s fine. Thanks.’

Erik sucks his teeth and shrugs nonchalantly ‘You sure you don’t want something different. Like actual scrambled eggs next to pancakes and bacon. Like there’s an IHOP down the street, and I’m starving. Why don’t we go there? Get out of the house, yeah? Like how can you stay in here all day it’s like the room is getting smaller? I’d swear to you, you’re closer to me than you were a minute before. ‘s it hot in here….’ he trails off fanning himself.

Zayn’s already shooting him a look to shut him up just as Mary Ann’s voicemail sounds again.

_You have reached the voicemail of— oh, I see. My name goes here. It’s Mary A— please leave a message after the tone._

‘What are you doing over there?’ Zayn hears Erik ask and since he’s obviously over his freak out, Zayn turns so he can face him.

‘My foster mother, she uh, she’s not answering her phone.’

When Zayn looks up at him, Erik’s blinking slowly at him, ‘maybe she’s in the bathroom.’

Zayn shakes his head and turns his attention back onto his phone screen. ‘Mate, I doubt she’s been in the bathroom for over half a week.’

Erik laughs then, ‘Ha! Clearly you’ve never had spontaneous bouts of explosive diarrhea.’ He says smirking at the sound Zayn makes before, ‘well, dude, you aren’t going to find out what’s up just by glaring a hole into your phone, unless you’re some kind of witch or something.’

Zayn snorts, ‘I know.’

When he stands up and starts to pad towards the stairs, it doesn’t surprise him to hear Erik scrambling to follow after him, ‘Where you going, then?’

‘To Mary Ann’s,’ Zayn says fighting off the chills shooting through his feet from the chilled floor and up his spine.

‘Oh goody,’ Erik cheers sounding as if he’s taking the stairs two at a time to keep up with Zayn, ‘a day out of the house will do you wonders. Mary Ann’s your Mum right? Where’s she live?’

Zayn rolls his eyes as he turns into the threshold of his room, ‘Primrose Hill.’

‘What a lovely place to live, I’ve only been once…’ Erik’s starts but then he cuts himself off as he stares around Zayn’s master bedroom. ‘Anyway you should hurry up and get your kit on so we can go. If she has been on the toilet for over half a week she’s going to need IV fluids…and intense medical treatment.’

Zayn had stopped rummaging through his drawer of clean shirts while Erik was talking had turned to him, ‘we?’

Erik pauses his wandering eyes before tilting his head up once at Zayn, ‘yeah we. Like you and I? We’re partners Zayn, which means I’m always there with you. Where you go I follow, bro.’

Zayn gives him the closest thing he can muster towards a smile before turning back and going towards his sock drawer, ‘that sounds more stalker-ish than companionship, handler.’

‘Not your handler, Zayn. And you wish I would stalk you. You’d never even know what hit you— no, no, no.’ Erik tsked causing Zayn to freeze. ‘Put the wool socks down, Malik. We’re not going anywhere until you shave that mutant growing out of your face.’

Zayn soothed his fingers over the fabric of his socks before touching a hand to the hairs of his lengthening beard. ‘What? But why? I like my beard.’

‘Yeah? So will lice. Come on, dude you’re starting to look like a member of ZZ Top.’ Erik grumbles as he takes the articles of clothing out of Zayn’s hands and pushes him towards the bedroom washroom. ‘Just trim it or something and then you can get dressed.’

Zayn steps towards the large mirror and glares softly at Erik through the glass, ‘you’re bossy.’

Erik simply shrugs and places the clothes on top of the dresser near the door, ‘learned from the best.’

When Zayn looks down at the sink and realizes for like the first time how bare it is since Perrie removed all her stuff, it pokes at something in him, yet he can feel the way his lips were still curled at the corners from just being in Erik’s presence. And even better, when Zayn does spot the razor he’s neglected for what feels like forever and day, he doesn’t hiss at it.

**< ><>><<><> **

By the time they’re actually pulling up to Mary Ann’s Zayn’s itching for something. A cigarette, maybe. Tweezers to pull at the hangnails riddling his fingertips? _Something_. Because he’s been antsy the whole ride over, fingers trembling and sliding off his grip on the stirring wheel to scritch at the soft hairs of his newly shaven beard.

Even Erik’s trackless word vomit sounding from the passenger seat couldn’t tame whatever he was feeling at the mo, maybe because he was actually getting one of the things that’s been keeping him up at night. It’s sort of how he’d imagine someone fresh out of rehab near their fix for the first time in a long while.

He’s had Erik help him put off his compulsive urges for long enough, now he’s fingers were fumbling to turn his car off, sweaty fingers making that recognizable squeaky sound as they try to grip at the material of the door handle. He’s in such a hurry to get out the bloody door that he actually forgets to take his seatbelt off.

Zayn swears over the irrefutable sound of Erik’s laughter and hisses at the cursed restraint as he reaches for the red PRESS button on the holder. Zayn almost literally growls when something else stops him, but halts when he realizes its Erik’s hand.

A surprisingly strong grip coiled around his wrist, since it was one of the few limbs that remained in the car at his haste. Zayn’s pausing to look at the fair skin of Erik’s hand, and then raising his eyes to the ones boring into his forehead, ‘what are you doin’?’

‘What are you doing?’ Erik retorts causing Zayn to frown back and forth between the house and Erik’s face practically screaming at him that he’s missing something obvious.

‘Mary Ann.’

‘Get in the car and close the door,’ the blonde orders while tugging on Zayn’s arm.

‘Erik,’ he warns clearly losing his patience, but Erik’s already using his upper body strength to partially heave Zayn back into the vehicle.

‘Zayn Malik you are a V.E.C. field agent. Were you taught nothing in all those years you spent training under Liam Payne?’ he strains out and finally manages to get Zayn to maneuver himself back into the driver seat. ‘The door,’ he demands. ‘Lock it.’

Zayn does as he’s told before looking over at the other man like he’d gone of his rocker. ‘What’s the first thing we were taught about entering new situations?’ he asks Zayn.

It causes him to push a breath out through his nose, because of course. ‘Never rush into a mission appearing to know less than the enemy. I get that, but you cannot ask me not to rush right now. What if she really is having a fecal crisis?’

Erik guffaws for a second before, ‘though the explosive diarrhea is a very plausible excuse, I only said that to ease your mind Zayn.’

Erik admits with earnest eyes. ‘You have to realize that you are one of the agency’s best agents. Your face is well known. Vampires are notorious for hitting V.E.C. agents back where the family card lies. If this is one of their elaborate traps, it definitely wouldn’t be wise to run up to that door and get yourself along with Mary Ann killed.’     

Zayn sighs and uses his thumb and forefinger to massage the skin between his eyebrows, ‘So what do we do?’

‘We tread lightly,’ Erik says sounding a little pleased that Zayn was actually cooperating. ‘You’re rather close with Mary Ann, yeah? So you’ve been here a lot. Sit here and observe. Do you find anything painstakingly different from the last time you’ve been here?’

Zayn was still a little caught up on how surprised he was as Erik’s sudden act of leadership and his own reckless endangerment, but he’s obeying. His hazel orbs sparing a fleeting moment for everything they passed over on the house, the potted flowers, the steps, the porch, the wind chimes, hell even the stupid yellow bird house he’d built for her when he was younger. He spotted nothing until he looked up into the upstairs window. The blinds.

‘The blinds,’ He repeats aloud.

‘What about ‘em?’ Erik presses after coming out of the knack he has for keeping watch.

‘That room is Mary Ann’s and the blinds are crooked.’ Zayn says feeling pressure begin to crowd underneath the skin of his bones, ‘Mary Ann’s a neat freak, so she’d never leave blinds crooked like that. Especially not where she sleeps.’

Erik’s looking over at him with this look of just plain _things happen_ , ‘you sure?’

‘She would never not fix something in plain sight.’ He would know because he’s got all his cleanliness from her, ‘and she’d never let the blinds be drawn up. Not like that.’ He says pointing to her window so Erik can see how one side of the pale white slabs were lifted while the other side dropped a bit as if hiding behind the inside of he window pane.

‘Hmmm,’ he responds, ‘that is suspicious. Let’s go.’

It’s predictable that Zayn’s the first out of the car and at the front door with only a handful of strides. He’s about to reach for his keys just as pulls the screen door open, when he notices something that turns him into a right statue.

‘What’s the hold up, Zayn?’ Erik asks and it sounds like he’s spinning around in order to keep at eye on everything.

‘I can see inside the house.’

‘Great, now go inside because if there’s any possibility that we have to take on vampires like Harry, we don’t want to do it out here.’ That’ll only cause more trouble.

‘No, as in, I can see through the door. But I haven’t unlocked it yet.’

That seems to get Erik’s full attention because now he’s closer than he was before. ‘Holy shit.’ He breathes as Zayn pushes open the white door to display the walk way branching off into the kitchen, living room, dining room, and the stairs.

The breath in Zayn’s lungs whooshes out of him before his brain is able to mentally comprehend what air even is anymore. It was a mess. The framed pictures she’d hung along the hall, cracked and broken and crooked on nails or slewed around over the wooden floor over a bed of broken glass.

The small table near the coat hangers she used to place keys or umbrellas was on the opposite side of the hall broken to bits. And Zayn knew the strength of whatever had thrown it had to be great, if the literal wood dust from the remains were any indication.

He didn’t even have to walk forward to know that the furniture in all the room were turned over as if a tornado had hit the place and yet he does, and ends up in the kitchen.

It almost foretold, the way he’s suddenly numb with this, as still as a catatonic victim would be as he looked over how the refrigerator doors were wide open, food pushed onto the floor and dishes scattered in pieces all over the pretty marbled floor Mary Ann fawned over when she first got the house.

He’s taking in how the back door is wide open and managing not to flinch at the sound of the residue beneath his shoes crunching as he walks towards the basement door, half torn off its hinges. Maybe he makes a sound at the sight of Tetsuo’s Pedigree dog food, flung about the stairs and into a large pile of mess at the bottom. He probably does because now he can feel his body shaking, and hear his breath stuttering over the pounding of his pulse and—

Erik’s there suddenly. He’s placing a firm hand on the muscle of Zayn’s shoulder and surprisingly that’s all he needs to pull himself back together. Maybe it’s just the simple knowledge of the fact that he really isn’t as alone as he feels.

‘You good?’ Erik’s checking, obviously referring to Zayn’s physical state since it’s clear his mind is severely fucked.

The aforementioned just gives him a look and as soon as Zayn see’s Erik’s face he can tell that there’s no sign of Mary Ann here. And he could have guessed that. If Tetsuo was gone of course she wouldn’t be here either.

Zayn’s covering his face with his hands and trying hard not to pull at the ends of his lengthening hair, ‘d’you think it was vamps?’

‘Honestly Zayn it looks like a break in, but I don’t think someone would go through this much trouble just to steal some shit along with a middle aged woman…if it was a group of vampires it wasn’t a large one. I really think we should take this to the Board.’

‘The Board hates me,’ with good reason, ‘what makes you think they’ll take my case?’ Zayn’s _whining,_ finally giving in to the way his body jerks at the sound of broken glass crunching underneath his feet.

‘Because they have to,’ Erik assures while squeezing at Zayn’s shoulder. ‘To me this reeks of vamp revenge and if so, we can’t handle this on our own. Remember? We’re just the field agents, the bounty hunters who catch the culprits and bring ‘em in to the scientists. We’ll need them and the Foreign Alchemists for this shit.’

Yeah, because if human newscasters caught wind of this, V.E.C. Corp. would be like pin and cattle.

A few seconds pass as the sound of a car alarm goes off in the distance, Zayn’s using them to gain himself back to respectable standards and he silently thanks Erik for not saying a comforting word or trying to reassure anything.

When Zayn finally drops his hands to look over at his partner, he merely blinks and goes, ‘the Board?’

Zayn nods, ‘the Board.’

**< ><>><<><> **

There’s a tinge of something in the air. Chaos? Strife? Maybe a little lot of both. It’s been that way ever since they had burst onto their floor of the office and attempted to demand who for whomever was in charge to make a greet with the Board but….yeah it didn’t go like that.

As the both of them stood there watching and V.E.C. office agents moved about with frantic intentions, speaking into the mouth pieces of the office phones that seemed keep ringing, and flew from desk to desk as if to get updates from each other. They realized it still wasn’t going….like at all.

It was almost parallel to the day the both of them had come back from the states right now, except Liam wasn’t here today.

What Zayn’s picked up from just being here for the couple of minutes they spent being shunned into shocked silence, was that apparently Thomas Pfaff hasn’t been into the office for the third day in a row and that V.E.C. leaders beneath—which was everyone— him weren’t authorized to order anything to be done around the offices.

So yeah, chaos.

Zayn’s folding his arms over his chest and scowling so fiercely that on any other occasion he might have been worried about getting his face stuck, ‘you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?’

He can see the blonde head beside him move with a nod out of his peripheral. ‘Something stinks. And since when do the lab coats willingly come upstairs to lounge about?’ Erik queries as he blatantly stares at the group of scientists hovering over by the windows.

If possible Zayn frowns even deeper. They never come near field agents unless they feel they need to. Unless they were nuts like Niall, ‘I don’t know.’

Zayn spots the sight of spiky blonde hair moving his way and sighs when he realizes it’s Niall. Speak of the devil, ‘what’s going on Nialler?’

‘Nothin’,’ Niall stops as they meet him halfway, ‘I literally mean that. Since the agency has basically been shut down due to the absence of that Pfaff bloke, no missions are going out so there’s nothing new for us to do. Our older captives are fine downstairs.’

‘What the hell is going on here?’ Erik mumbles watching as the office agents speak outside of their inside voices…right into the phones placed to their ears. That couldn’t be pleasant.

‘It’s the end, I tell you.’ Niall offers and shoves his hands into he pockets of his lab coat, ‘Ever since Liam’s been gone things have been funny. Now that rat bastard Thomas is in charge and doesn’t even show up for work. I already knew it was stupid for them to demote everyone like that in the first place, now this company is going to collapse right beneath us, man.’

Zayn agreed wholeheartedly. If things kept up like this they’d all be out of a job.

‘What is the Board saying?’

Niall turns to him and shakes his head, ‘Nothing. They’ve been backed up with meetings all day.’

A thought suddenly strikes him then, ‘You can meet with the board right, just like Liam can?’

‘Yea, so what?’ Niall asks with a raised brow.

Zayn pulls out a paper he had written on displaying Mary Ann’s information and his own. ‘Mary Ann’s been kidnapped. We’ve got reason to believe that vamps targeted her because of me. When you get a chance could you try and get this to the Board so they can check it out?’

Niall’s taking the paper out of his hands before he even finishes talking, ‘Of course, Zayn. Still I doubt they’re going to pay attention to anything other than potential collapse the Corp is enduring right now.’ Niall says before starting to walk away.

‘Oh,’ Niall stops then and turns to face Erik and Zayn again, ‘did you hear?’

Erik’s the first to look at him once more, ‘hear what?’

Niall walking up with a wolfish grin on his face, ‘only the other reason every V.E.C. agent is so fecking off the walls. News surfaced earlier that Harry and Liam had found about 5 dozen vampire nests off where they are Down Under. Apparently they lit all of them up with explosives. Killed at least 800 rogues with it.’

Zayn’s face promptly goes into something like shock and wonder while Erik’s just grinning along with Niall now, ‘that’s a lot of fucking vampires, mate.’

‘Amazing is what it is,’ Niall counters and then turns his infectious smile onto Zayn, ‘I just wanted to leave you with the knowledge that our boy hasn’t lost it. Harry’s not bad either.’

And then he’s walking off but not before shooting Zayn a cynical look. Zayn sighs and even with that, the stupid smile on his face is still there. Now he’s starting to itch again.

**< ><>><<><> **

By the time Zayn is assured that the Board is looking into Mary Ann’s kidnapping the moon is shining in the sun’s place. Zayn’s at home alone in his bed staring into the half full bottle of Dopamines Niall had made for him. Like he’s not sure if he should keep taking them or not.

Like seriously he’s chancing whether he even wants to remember because with every step he takes to getting a proper answer something goes horridly wrong. Someone blows up, or gets kidnapped, or a kitten cries or some shit. It’s always three steps back.

He’s having surreal flashes of pouring the pills down the toilet when his cell phone rings somewhere near his ears. Zayn uses them to search out for the sound blindly in the darkened room, all the while wondering what he’s going to do when he finds it because he doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now…maybe he’s just searching for it to turn it off completely.

When he flips the phone over Zayn reads the name on the screen and sucks in a breath.

_Liam_

Fucking closure. ‘Hello?’

‘Hey Zayn it’s me.’

Zayn chortles a bit, ‘obviously. I see the distance hasn’t damaged your ace observational skills.’

‘Well, clearly its done wonders for your emotional display. I have to ask you something Zayn.’

‘Go on,’ Zayn coaxes while sitting up and pushing back towards the headboard.

‘It’s about Harry.’ Liam pauses as if expecting the way the air seems to whoosh right out of Zayn at the meager mention. ‘I can’t seem to find him.’

Then all the air’s out the damn room, ‘Liam. What?’ the fuck is silent.

‘I don’t think anyone got to him or anything like that I just haven’t seen him all day. He got pretty sick last night. He might have drank some bad blood or summat because he kept vomiting….have you, erm, seen him around the offices?’

A shadow sort of shifts in the far corner of his room and it has Zayn narrowing his eyes and leaning forward on his mattress, ‘No I haven’t.’

Zayn misses the chance to cackle at Liam when he swears viciously—a rare occurrence— because he’s out of his bed and moving towards the dark corner of his room, his blood doing something akin to boiling in under his skin.

‘Christ. I’m a fucking idiot. Shit, well, I guess I’m on my own from now on…listen, if you spot him in the offices give me a ring, yeah?’

‘I will.’ Zayn’s promising, his fingers twitching as he stares into the dark corner. He listens to the line go dead, and then for anything further to accomplice the silence that fills the room afterwards.

Zayn’s shaking his head and placing his phone the top of the dresser next to him and then he’s reaching out a hand towards the shadows.

It’s pale there in the bleak space of moonlight and for a moment Zayn actually thinks he’s imagining it all, the eyes he feels on his body, the movement in the shadows, the familiar scent that clouds his senses just at being near the corner, but suddenly there’s a tan hand in Zayn’s and he pulls until the body attached practically sinks into his own.

It makes sense now, Zayn’s thinking as he basically vertically cuddles the warm mass of the vampire who seems to be trying to melt into Zayn, like the force of gravity has just become too much. Zayn’s right there with him, his brain flying with ideas of how he can permanently mold himself into the pores of Harry’s skin, brand him with such heat and fervor that an iron brand would look as if it were made by an icicle.

Harry’s mumbling into his collarbone then, the vibrations causing Zayn’s body to tingle. He pulls back just enough to press his lips to the hair above Harry’s ear, ‘speak up, babe.’

‘I said it doesn’t work,’ Harry repeats lifting his head a bit higher. ‘I didn’t need your permission to get in. So….it doesn’t work.’

The look on Zayn’s face must appear as fond as it feels because Harry’s ducking his head once more, dimples flashing minutely. It’s at the tip of his tongue that Harry doesn’t need permission to do anything involving himself when Harry’s speaking again, ‘I thought you would like to know. Since you asked the last time.’

Zayn’s smiling at nothing as he runs his fingers through curls behind Harry’s ear. ‘How long have you been there?’

‘long enough,’ Harry mumbles into the skin of Zayn’ throat, and Zayn’s sliding his fingers over the skin of Harry’s neck, gliding them over the bone that sticks out there at the nape when he bends his head.

‘I felt you,’ Zayn’s murmuring almost in awe, because he can still feel whatever _it_ was fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird in the center of his chest. It sort of burned. ‘I can still feel you, right here.’ he whispers patting at his sternum, ‘do you?’

Harry briefly ceases the way his hands were rubbing at Zayn’s sleeved arms, and then he’s giving Zayn a smile he’s sure he’s never seen before. All eyelashes and dimples, ‘do I what?’

‘Do you feel it Harry? Right here.’ Zayn touches a hand to the center of Harry chest and he’s silently pleading that Harry does, but then Harry’s covering Zayn’s hand with his own and when Zayn lifts his eyes to Harry’s, he’d swear they were shimmering like diamonds.

He nods mutely before squeezing Zayn’s fingers gently.

It’s like clockwork, like the pull of the moon and the tide the way whatever force between them gives way and snaps out with a little sizzle, and its all breath and skin when their lips meet.

It’s soft and sweet and terrible and all consuming because Zayn’s drowning in whatever Harry’s willing to give right now, but he feels like he just learned to breathe for the first time in life.

‘It makes sense now,’ Zayn recurs after pulling back, but Harry doesn’t seem to mind because he’s dragging his lips over the skin of Zayn’ jawbone, his neck, then he’s softly biting into the flesh where his shoulder and neck meets. ‘Harry?’

It comes out more as a groan than a beckoning, still he gets an hmmm, ‘am I your mate?’

Zayn can feel every muscle in Harry’s body freeze, and then he’s pulling back, shock glinting off his widened orbs. Zayn almost laughs because he can practically hear the low drawn out _what?_ behind Harry’s lips.

‘It’s just that you vomit up everyone else’s blood when you’re near and away from me…I think you bleed whenever we fight?’ Zayn questions remembering the day in the rain…the red pigment that had stained the skin beneath Harry’s nose. ‘And then there’s this.’ Zayn says touching the center of Harry’s chest again where that snaring energy seemed to lie.

Harry’s still looking at Zayn like he’s told him he has a fetish for obese cankles, and he can’t resist the urge to lean in and peck at the pink of Harry lips, his arms wounding tightly around his body, ‘A little birdie told me that a powerful vampire marked me as their mate, rest that little birdie’s soul.’ Zayn wishes through a grin.

He’s watching Harry as he drops his eyes and starts to pull and twist at random pieces of Zayn’s clothing, and shivers when the warmth of Harry’s fingers seeps into his hips when Harry thumbs beneath his shirt. ‘You’ve mentioned it before, Harry. Was it you? Did you mark me right here?’ he asks tapping his bottom lip.

The vampire sneaks a glance at Zayn’s face, shyly, and then he’s sighing. The sound resembling acceptance. Defeat. ‘Yes.’

And fuck he’s never truly loved that word before then. Zayn’s raising Harry’s chin up between two digits and then licking his way into Harry’s mouth so quickly that Harry too stunned to respond, ‘I accept.’

The fan of Harry’s eyelashes lifts and he’s looking at Zayn like he’s hurting. Like he’s near tears with awe and joy at once, and then a smile is splitting his face in two, and well, Zayn really has no other option but to respond in kind.

He’s kind of doing that thing, he knows, where his eyes crinkle at the corners and his nose scrunches. Fuck he’s smiling so fucking hard his ears are starting to hurt.    

And then Harry’s face is closer to his and they’re trying to kiss a cheers to this moment, keyword trying. It’s not really working because they’re still grinning like doped up idiots, teeth gnashing a bit with their fumbled attempts and then they’re just plainly laughing into each other’s mouths, the both of them still struggling to lower their lips for a proper kiss.

‘Stop smiling you mad man,’ Harry giggles into Zayn’s mouth, causing the hunter to rub his cheek against the smooth skin of Harry’s.

‘I will when you do, babe.’ Zayn promises after sinking his fingers into the mess of Harry’s curls, and then he’s pressing his forehead to Harry’s, pulling him as close as he can with out practically being conjoined. He realizes it’s there, chest to chest, and nose to nose that everything is Harry.

When he breathes it’s him, if he opens his eyes Harry all over everything, shit even everything he feels almost makes him feel like he and Harry were feeling the same thing. Like they were embedded into each other so deeply that they were now one…and it’s so good because he can taste it at the back of his throat. What he and Harry were. What they would be from then on.

Suddenly that four lettered L word is floating around his brain in a little brown puff of imagination and he wants so badly to pour everything he’s locked up about his feelings into the chasm of Harry’s ear canal, but then he’s remembering something.

Zayn pulls back to look at Harry’s face, he almost smiles at the whine Harry makes when Zayn does so, but Zayn’s too busy looking at him. Truly this time, past the beautiful fair skin, the dimples and the shining green eyes. Underneath them are bags so dark it appeared he’d been punched repeatedly in the eyes, his clothes were disheveled, and blood stained the bottom of his chin.

Zayn flinches because he can actually fucking feel the sharp pang of hurt he gets from seeing Harry like this. He’s swearing softly as Harry frowns at him.

‘What’s the matter, Zayn?’

‘You’re starving aren’t you?’ Zayn voices, running his hands down the muscle of Harry’s sides. He can’t really stop the hand that reaches to thumb at the dried blood flaking the curve of Harry’s chin.

Harry’s about to object, he can feel it before he actually see’s him shaking his head, ‘Zayn you don’t—’

But Zayn’s already shushing him and pulling him towards the King sized bed set and when he finally gets his lips over Harry’s he’s sure it’s what it feels like when a furnace meets the heat of a lava lake, the taste of Harry’s, he notices, isn’t flavored like the rusty tang of blood he’s vomited earlier, but more like a nice mixture of Sweet & Low and salted caramel.

He’s loosening the crooked tie around Harry’s neck and then pulling it with him when the backs of his legs hits his bed. Zayn’s sort of crab walking his way backwards up the bed, tucking his lips behind his teeth when Harry bends and crawls until he’s hovering over Zayn’s body, and then he’s making a pleased noise when Zayn lets his legs gape open so Harry could settle between them.

When their lips meet once more its all tongue, teeth, and lips. It’s so fast and searing that Zayn’s feeling it behind the plates of his breast bone and he’s shaking as the motions of Harry’s sure tongue shorts out his brain patterns with precise ease.

He probably makes a noise when he feels Harry’s cock filling up on the skin beneath his navel, but then he’s moving his hips without second thought. Shaking with the sound it pulls from the depths of Harry’s chest.

And it’s delicious, really. The sound of Harry above him, and the rhythm of their pelvises once Harry, quick with the upkeep, reciprocates by grounding his down into Zayn’s so hard Zayn’s back lifts with it.

Its sinful and dirty and breath and friction and fuck, they’re not even bothering to kiss anymore, just rocking into one another, and letting one another now just how satisfying they find all of this with the way they’re losing the lid on their vocal chords.

Zayn rolls his hips upwards once more before halting completely, then he’s craning his neck, showing the line of his throat to the vampire when Harry finally opens his eyes. ‘Drink. C’mon Harry.’

Though Harry’s response comes a little late, he’s slightly jerking his hips into Zayn’s and then he’s running his nose along the line of Zayn Adam’s apple and he’s groaning in a wrecked voice, ‘God, you smell so fucking good, Zayn.’

All Zayn can do is breathe, claw a little at the back of Harry’s jacket, as Harry grazes his lips over the side of his throat. ‘Yeah, yeah, come on.’ Zayn’s mumbling feverishly, the anticipation nearly burning him alive. Harry’s raising his head to look at Zayn once more, and then his fangs are deep inside the vein of his throat.

The sound is sickening and Zayn’s back flies off the bed for a second, but then Harry’s pulling the first mouth full of blood down his throat and they’re both groaning in relief. Zayn promptly feels like he’s floating with in the sky with a group of talking rainbow coloured clouds, because he swears he’s no longer in his body. The blood in his veins literally feeling like its moving with the rate of which Harry sucks.

And maybe it’s the endorphins, the heat of Harry’s mouth on his throat, or the way his tongue is lapping to catch every single drop, but his hips are working again because its all just stimulating the blood swelling his dick.

When Harry’s hips start to circle with his own, Zayn’s vision is suddenly on the inside of his skull, but then Harry’s pulling back, licking at the wound before sitting back on his knees and dragging Zayn with him.

Zayn’s on top of his lap within seconds, pushing the open lapels of Harry’s jacket down his shoulders, as Harry sniffs into the unbitten side of his neck. When his arms are free of the sleeves, his hands are on Zayn’s hips until Zayn’s reaching for the button of his trousers.

Harry’s nibbling on his neck, his breath stuttering when Zayn pulls his cock free and uses his thumb to spread the sticky nectar of precome around his shaft.

Harry’s swearing into his skin once Zayn gets a proper grip around him after obscenely slobbering all over his hand, and then his fangs are in his neck again and Zayn’s losing all of it, the rhythm of the strokes his hand is giving, the breath in his lungs, his fucking mind.

It doesn’t take long for Zayn to fumble at the zipper of his own trousers and free himself, his body almost sagging with relief, but then he’s wetting his hand again and curling his fingers just so he can get the hand around the both of them.

Harry’s moaning into his throat, his hips fucking into the friction Zayn’s hand and cock provides, and Zayn’s mumbling nonsense. All the breathy little, ‘fuck, Harry’s and ‘yes’s and ‘oh god’s because his brain is literally gone he thinks, as they both thrust erractically.

And then Zayn’s fumbling because Harry’s lips sort of wrap around his throat like a suction cup and Zayn’s moaning out, ‘Shit, babe. Your mouth.’

‘Your tongue, fuck. Wanna fuck your mouth,’ and then Harry’s tensing, his fangs retracting suddenly, and then a chocked gargle sounds as Harry comes in thick ropes across the both of them. Zayn could swear he sees a swirl of colour in Harry’s orbs as he tips his head back and moans, but then the bed is suddenly against his back.

And Zayn’s head is spinning a little as Harry’s ripping the buttons of Zayn’s shirt open, trialing his mouth down to latch onto the dark ring of Zayn’s nipple until Zayn’s arching desperately. When Zayn opens his eyes to observe what Harry’s doing, he almost comes at the sight. Harry’s hair framing his face, the blood attaining his lips red, the look of inebriated lust glossing his emerald gems.

Zayn’s bucking when Harry’s lips are following the bone of his pelvis, but then he’s fisting Harry’s hair to stop him. ‘what’re you doin’?’

‘You want my mouth,’ Harry says as if about to come once more with the way Zayn’s gripping his hair, ‘I’m letting you fuck it. Want you to.’

Zayn’s trying to get his brain to wake up enough to ask Harry if he’s sure, when a the oxygen in his very blood whooshes out at the heat of Harry’s mouth on him, and he’s making sounds he’s never thought he could before, voice gaining a couple octaves at the swirl of Harry’s tongue and it has him wondering if Harry’s done this before.

The way he’s swallowing around the line of Zayn’ cock, and fondling his balls so carefully causes Zayn’s hand to jerk and it’s knocking the orange bottle of dopamines he had dropped earlier onto the bedroom floor.

Zayn has to cover his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at the way Harry’s lips turns light pink around him, the way his hand is twisting at the base of him, the eyes looking at him as if asking if he was doing it right.

He feels Harry go still around him, tongue still quivering under a vein in his dick, and Zayn knows. So he’s taking his arm off of his eyes, blinking away the blurred vision, before taking Harry’s head in steady hands and thrusting so deeply his dick hits the back of Harry’s throat.

‘Motherfuck,’ he’s swearing as Harry lets him do it again and again and again, and he’s not choking and he’s just watching Zayn as he moans around him and …no…nope no not lasting long at all.

Zayn’s falling back against the pillows still sawing into the heated cavern of Harry’s mouth feeling like his skeleton is about to burst through his skin, he’s blindly pulling at Harry’s hair, swearing when he remembers how much Harry likes that.

‘Fuck, babe, ‘m gonna come. Off. Come on,’ he saying tugging a little gentler so it doesn’t stimulate another moan from the vampire, yet it does and he can feel it in his fucking bone marrow.

‘Harry,’ Zayn groans when his lips are locking around his shaft. ‘I can’t,’ he tries, but when he looks back at Harry’s face the look in his eyes tells Zayn to fucking deal with it and Zayn was probably sobbing.

‘Fuck, fine then. Fucking take it,’ he growls finally giving into the way his legs are tensing and his stomach is heating and then he’s releasing everything he has to give down the channel of Harry’s throat. And the fact that Harry seems to like it, groaning so deliciously around him, probably makes Zayn release more than he had to offer, because he’s sure he blacks out afterwards.

He’s breathing open mouthed up at the ceiling that seemed to be shimmering, when he feels harry crawl back up his body. He’s nudging Zayn with his nose, and kissing at the corner of his mouth, ‘Alright?’

Inhale, exhale. Zayn’s swallowing before fixing Harry with a sternest stare he can muster right then. ‘We are doing that again. And again, and again, and again after the again after that.’

And wow that sounded way better in his brain, but it has Harry laughing and kissing him with the pad of his tongue almost as if he’s letting Zayn taste himself, ‘whatever you want.’

**< ><>><<><> **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how bout Erik and Zayn’s little blooming bromance. Mary Ann and Tetsuo have been kidnapped, who done it? Are they still alive? Would it surprise you if I say read over the Louis meet if you want a hint? Where’s Thomas? Is it and really the end of V.E.C. Corporations? And holy fuck Haz and Zayn are finally (almost) fully bonded. So far everything’s going great for them (Not). Anyway I miscalculated before with the number of chapters. This was supposed to be way longer but I didn’t want the chap to be redunkulously long like the earlier ones. Much more to come. So thanks for reading and giving kudos and hugs for my communicators moni, abra, SavetheOwls, zarry3 (Jeri_1116), and MaddyTinkerbell for commenting support and thoughts. Don’t be shy to do so, anyone else. I always answer. Till the next chapter, adieu xx. 
> 
> BTW what is kidnapping when it’s a grown up?


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit steamy...Aha. Enjoy!

**< ><>><<><> **

His heartbeat was thunderous: a pulse pounding thrum of rushing blood throbbing in his lips, in his fingertips, and throughout his body. He knew Harry could hear it where he was nuzzling the side of Zayn’s throat, and even so if he weren’t a vampire. He’s sure half the world can hear it.

But his breathing is even, so even, that it kind of frightens him. How calm he is frightening as well. The way he’s pulling air through his nose, legs wound loosely around Harry’s hips, lips pressed to Harry’s crown, while one fist balls in the back of Harry’s shirt and the other hand running sure lines over the back of Harry’s scalp.

It’s new, this calm. So it’s then, as Zayn lies half naked underneath one of the most powerful vampires he’s ever encountered, that Zayn grasps just how scared he is of everything now.

Harry groans into his shoulder for a second and then Zayn’s jolting at the sensation of wet warm muscle striping at the skin of his throat, ‘You smell delightful.’

Zayn pushes a heavier breath out then, ‘What?’

‘I said you smell delightful Zayn. I loathed when you smelled like the others,’ Harry goes on obviously referring to Thomas and Perrie. ‘The fragrance of your skin is that of sex and blood. Me. I love that.’

Zayn almost gets distracted with the way Harry’s raspy tenor dips low and gets sticky around a growl, but he’s looking up into Harry’s lustrous eyes, his own the colour of molten amber in the in the pale moonlight. ‘She’s not here anymore.’

Harry’s lips lift a little in a smile that’s gone before he speaks, but the grin is in his eyes, Zayn sees, ‘I noticed that, yeah.’

Because he can’t really help it, Zayn moves his hand to run it along the side of Harry’s face, sighing when Harry smiles at him and leans into the touch. ‘I broke it off with her almost as soon as we got in the house.’

Harry sighs in way that would be described as pornographic had the look of content not been in his eyes, and Zayn kind of thinks he wants to see that look forever. ‘I know it sounds like I’m bragging, but that’s not it. After she left me here, her engagement ring balled into my fist, I realized I was scared. Terrified actually.’

Zayn nearly smiles because instead of reacting to the way Zayn’s fingers curl tighter on his skin, Harry leans down to nudge him. To comfort him, ‘I know more than a thousand vampires and humans alike who would get a kick out me right now. The hot headed vampire hunter Zayn Malik scared of being alone….but that’s just what I was. I am.’

He pauses and then moves his eyes back to the ones waiting patiently above him, ‘Perrie’s honestly one of the best mistakes to occur in my life. I loved her, or at least tried to, with as much love as I could’ve given. So when you asked me to choose, a large part of me broke at letting her go…didn’t want to, you know.’

He pushed on quicker when the look on Harry read clearly that he didn’t want to hear this, ‘but you, Harry, you’re to blame. You didn’t force me to do anything, but it is because of you that I comprehended true terror. When that restaurant went up in flames and I thought you were gone…I think I might have died a little.’ He says, voice going softer as he moves his other hand so that he cradles both sides of Harry’s face.

And Harry speaking then before Zayn can restart over the lump in his throat, ‘I marked you.’ He starts slowly, eyes wide and unblinking down at Zayn, ‘I claimed you as my own before we were even on these terms. And I’m not sorry for it. But I want you to know that when a vampire comes upon its mate, the rush is sudden, alarming and undeniable. We don’t really have control over it when it comes, but I could’ve fought it. You aren’t mad about that?’

For a second Zayn almost thinks aloud about being suspicious as to if Harry was trying to scare him away, but instead he shakes his head, ‘I don’t care about that. In fact it would hypocritical if I did. I think I think I had already given myself over to you when Liam first showed me and Erik your face.’

Harry was already shaking his head, eyes sort of pleading for Zayn to understand, ‘No, Zayn, listen to me. You really should be because that mark wasn’t consensual. Everything you’ve mmgh-’ it’s almost funny the vigorous way Harry’s lips push into Zayn’s when he crashes his mouth onto the vampire’s.

The way Harry sort of keeps kissing him like he doesn’t want to stop. And with the languid motion of Harry’s lips on his own, Zayn actually finds himself trying to make that a possibility.

‘You didn’t let me finish,’ he breathes after pulling away from the comfort of Harry’s mouth. ‘When that hit almost got you, it became clear to me that if you died I would probably follow soon after. I can’t do any of this without you and now that I’ve got you, I’m not letting go.’

Harry’s eyes look a little wet when he starts to look as if he’s about to protest once more.

‘I don’t give a shit about the way vampiric mating rituals work. I chose you.’ Over Perrie, over rational thought, over everything.

Zayn can feel the air leave the vessel of Harry’s body when he inhales harshly. Zayn tries to convince himself that he’s said nothing special, only the truth, but the way Harry’s looking at him now, mouth agape and eyes bright like he’s just seen the moon and stars for the first time, shuts him up.

‘Zayn.’

And Zayn almost coos at the way Harry voice sounds like he’s about to shatter, crack with the likes of thin ice at the first sun of spring. He finds his thumbs wiping at the wetness threatening to drip lower on Harry’s lower eyelids and then kisses the vampire soundly. ‘I choose you.’

Harry makes a noise between their mouths, a sob? Laughter? Maybe both, either way he’s pulling himself a little higher up the bed and then he’s taking his weight off of his arms and allowing himself to lie on top Zayn completely, giggling, actually giggling at the way Zayn goes breathless.

‘God, you weigh a ton.’ Zayn’s muttering just before Harry’s pulling himself onto his elbows and then kissing Zayn like it’s the only thing the both of them were born to do. And in that moment as time sped up or slurred or did whatever it wanted whenever the two of them got together, Zayn was satisfied because the both of them were damn good at it.

It’s only when Harry gets restless, starts making these pained eager noises against Zayn’s mouth, that its clear that Harry’s not as content with that. He’s nipping and sucking at Zayn’s lips and grounding his hips down so deliciously that it has Zayn’s libido jump starting again.

Harry pulls back, and the look there in the depths of his eyes almost blown black, doesn’t really help. The way he’s looking at Zayn like he wants to devour him whole, all predatory like, makes the very bones in his body quake.

Wow—he really is a masochist.

But he doesn’t mind if he is because Harry’s got that look on his face. The look that had struck him the first time he got to feel the skin of Harry’s body against his own. That look like he was about to take Zayn right then, the location be damned.

And Zayn nearly throws his arms eagle spread, completely giving himself over to him, just like before, because god did he want it. He wanted to feel the way Harry’s face told him he craved Zayn through touch. He wanted to feel the bruises Harry would no doubt dig into his skin when lost control of his strength in the midst of pleasure. He wanted the love bites that had darkened his skin days after the actual event occurred. He wanted the bites Harry would give him, the endorphins that numbed his skin when Harry couldn’t resist the urge to plunge his fangs into Zayn’s quickened pulse pound.

Fuck, he wanted Harry’s cock buried so deeply inside himself that he’d feel it for ages afterwards. Zayn’s groaning at the thought as he arches his back and bares his throat to his lover. ‘You gonna fuck me?’

To an outsider, the growl Harry gives would probably trigger a heart attack but for Zayn it only causes the heat to flourish over and under his skin. But then he’s on top of Harry, the room flipping so quickly he only follows it after a moment of just, ‘huh?’

‘That’s your job, tonight.’ Harry says as he brings his hands down from Zayn’s sides to settle on his hips.

Zayn thinks his hearing has to be impaired from the whiplash he must have been experiencing, ‘Come again?’

Harry chuckled as he wiggled his eyebrows and winked, ‘I will as soon as you get on with it.’

Zayn gives a look for the pun before the look bleeds into something that feels like apprehension and longing. It’s clear the vampire is having none of that when Harry pulls him down by the neck, and licks at the curve of Zayn’s lips until they fall open over a shaky breath.

‘I want you,’ Harry starts after pulling back just enough to catch Zayn’s glossy eyes, ‘to use your fingers, or your tongue, whichever, so you can prep me open and then fuck me until I forget how to speak, yeah. Sound good?’

Zayn is nodding feverishly against the hand cupping the back of his neck, the bare skin of his stomach tightening and prickling almost painfully when Harry slides his hands up and down, soothing, caressing.

‘Make me yours Zayn. Claim me.’

He’s whispering slowly, rolling his shoulders to lie back against the pillows and splaying his arms wide until Harry’s long fingers almost met the sides of Zayn’s king sized bed.

The desire is starting to rot his brain, he’s sure because it’s running rampant with ideas, mental ideas that cause his tonsils to drip with saliva. Like taking Harry up against the window with the blinds drawn, purposefully giving anyone who looked an eyeful, or going as far as pressing Harry’s face against the front door so that the neighbors can hear how Harry would be gagging for his touch.

Claiming is what Harry told him to do right?

Harry must be reading his mind or some shit because he’s moaning and rolling his hips underneath Zayn’s. ‘C’mon Zayn.’ he’s arching, fingers curling in the bedspread. ‘Show me how much you want me. Fuck me like you do in your dreams.’

What?

Zayn wants to snarl into his skin, demand how he knows about those dreams, but instead he’s tearing the white button down shirt open to reveal Harry’s heaving chest, his ego purring when Harry pushes a breathy ‘that’s it’ into the dark room.

His mouth is on Harry’s skin just after he decides to tuck that thought away for a moment that’s a little less of the need to touch and be touched. He latches onto the bud of Harry’s nipple, suckling it between his incisors and then flicking the tip of his tongue over the bundle of nerves.

And it could probably turn anyone beet red, the words flying out of Harry’s mouth when Zayn switches over to the other nipple and gives the same treatment; a hand thumbing across the neglected one.

Zayn hears the sheets rip when Harry claws them to raise his hips, desperate for friction and then he’s looking up at the vampire’s face, the way his eyes are dancing beneath his closed eyelids, the way he’s sucking air in through his open mouth in large gulps like that still isn’t enough to breathe.

He looks gone.

And Zayn is right there with him, he believes, as he runs his lips lower on Harry’s body, his own brain buzzing and tingling while he lets his hands roam the warm skin beneath his fingertips, his blood feeling dangerously close to boiling. He’s sure his intestines must be some type of stew by now because even though he’s touched Harry’s body before, seen him in the bouts of climax. Been the reason for Harry’s climax; this was his first time actually initiating the lead.

His first time seeing Harry spread out under him, willingly waiting for Zayn to ravish his body like no other has and no other will. Zayn’s grunting into Harry’s skin, purposefully digging his fingers in a little deeper, sucking a bruise under Harry’s breastbone and biting a mark over the cage of his ribs in a fashion that would probably be too painful for a human.

But he has to, not only because of the noises it gets out of Harry, but because even though the skin darkens with the blood that rises underneath the skin, his vampiric healing erases it like chalk in the wind. He does it simply for the pleasure of knowing it was there for a moment.    

Zayn’s tonguing at Harry’s navel, tracing it and then nipping at the skin under it when he smells the aroma of Harry’s arousal, heady and mouthwatering. He looks down and groans at the sight of Harry’s prick swollen and straining where it rested on the flat plane of Harry’s abdomen.

The sight alone is enough to make his own dick jump. Zayn starts to appreciate just how heightened his senses are right now, like the hot air he blows onto the wet tip of Harry’s cock is on his own; the precome there only adding to the perfume of the come Harry had shot off earlier.

Zayn uses a gentle fingernail to slide along his scrotum before grazing his lips down the side of Harry’s dick. He pulls back when Harry curses over a stuttery gasp and then jerks his hips up.

‘Keep your hips down.’ Zayn demands; smiling a little when Harry lowers his hips obediently with a ‘fuck.’

Zayn finds a suitable position, a bent arm over the bone of Harry’s hip, and then settles between Harry’s legs before replacing his mouth on the head of Harry’s member, and moaning the instant it hits his tongue. He’s swirling his tongue to lap up salty wetness, his teeth lightly browsing at the slit as his free hand came to stroke the base of Harry’s cock, twisting upwards almost beckoning more of the delectable substance out of the meatus.

The tearing noise sounds from above again when Zayn laps at his palm before sliding it over and down Harry’s shaft, swiftly followed by his mouth and then begins to bob his head in a lazy rhythm, placing the rough pad of his tongue beneath the head as he works his hand to match the pace of his mouth.

Harry keens, his face pinched up as if he were in pain, ‘c-come!’ he whispers frantically, ‘gonna come. You gotta stop.’

It has Zayn smirking after he pulls off with a wet _pop!_ It’s actually cute how he thinks he’ll only be coming twice tonight. Zayn grabs the open ends of Harry’s trousers and rips them off, taking satisfaction in the lithe sound of the seams tearing.

‘I’m gonna make this good for you. Wanna make you scream.’ Zayn breathes as he throws the ruined slacks and briefs onto the pile on the floor where Harry’s jacket and shoes had landed what felt like ages ago.

Harry moans in…. agreement? His sun bleached shoulder length hair of burnt gold and chestnut flaying across the pillows when he lets the weight of his head drop again. Zayn removes his own restrictive clothing under Harry’s heated gaze, and then moves back over to the vampire. He’s rearranging him, spreading Harry’s legs wider and then pushing them up until his knees were in the air.

Zayn can’t stop the sound he produces when he spots the sweat dripping pass the ring of Harry dusky colored hole, the ring of muscle tightening as Harry’s arse clenched around nothing. His tongue is there an instant later, catching the sweat drop just before Harry jerks viciously.

Zayn looks up to check and sees the vampire drawing in a shaking breath, he opens his eyes and shakes his head, ‘keep going.’

Zayn obeys, going for a more relaxed method. He’s using a finger to drag his nail around the outside of Harry’s entrance, gently nipping at his inner thigh until he feels the tension drain out of Harry along with the breathy sigh.

He leaves a wet trial of kisses down the V of Harry's legs, takes hold of Harry’s straining cock to stimulate it, and then he’s using his other hand to lift the balls over the wedge of his thumb, taking one of them into the cavern of his mouth and humming against it.  

Zayn releases when Harry’s breathing picks up again and lowers his mouth to lap over Harry’s entrance once more, this time waiting for a reaction, the way his legs sort of trembles, but he stays still. Almost statuesque had it not been for his breathing and jumping cock.

But Zayn’s already where he needs to be, nose pressed under Harry’s taint, tongue switching from swirling around the ring of muscle and dipping into it repeatedly until Harry lets out a long low moan. It fuels Zayn on like oxygen to fire, because he’s extracting a hand to stretch at the tightened skin around Harry’s entry while the one cupping Harry’s dick strokes it with vigor.

He’d be a fool to stop and ask if Harry was alright with the way Zayn was using his fingers to pull at his arse and delving his tongue in as deep as he could. Not with the way Harry’s mumbling nonsense at no one, and how Zayn can feel a stream of hot precome spilling over the knuckles wrapped around Harry’s member.

Yet, Zayn pulls back to sit on his knees and kiss at the bed of pubic hair above him, his thumb swiping over the tiny bump beneath Harry’s penis where the shaft met the tip, ‘baby,’ he whispers throat sort of dry, ‘Harry look at me.’

The shuddering vampire does with what seems like enormous effort, his eyes looking as if they were eager to close once more, ‘I’m going to try something. I need you to let me know if you need to stop.’

Harry only whimpers and spreads his legs wider a broken ‘fuck’ falling off of his lips when he lies back against the pillows. It’s probably the anticipation clawing at him, or maybe it’s the way Zayn starts to carefully bend his erect cock down level with his balls, taking him into his mouth as soon as it reaches.

Zayn had thought it would hurt the first time Thomas had done it to him, but God it was glorious. Clearly Harry was enjoying it because his vampiric powers were having a freak-out. Zayn strokes carefully along the hard line, his tongue dancing at Harry’s slit again, to prep him. Distract him.

Zayn brings two fingers up Harry’s body searching for the wet heat of Harry’s mouth. And it’s a bit awkward until Harry bends a little to lap at them fervently, trying to give Zayn the pleasure he was experiencing. It’s considerate, Zayn notices, but that not what it’s for.

He pulls his fingers out of Harry’s mouth, pulls off his cock and letting it spring back forward to smack against its rightful place on Harry’s stomach. Harry is sort of moaning at the action but then yelping, hands moving up to grip the top of Zayn’s bed, when Zayn thrusts the fingers into the loosely opened entrance.

Zayn moves, hovering over the vampires quivering body as he kisses his chest, ‘sorry.’ He mumbles into the skin, ‘you good?’

‘It burns.’ Harry grits out, but nearly claws into Zayn’s wrist when he starts to pull back. ‘Don’t. I didn’t say stop.’

‘Okay.’ Zayn says reaching up to bite into the side of Harry’s neck, before crooking his fingers into the bundle of nerves he knew would be there.

‘Sweet fucking- There!’ Harry yells, eyelashes probably leaving marks on the rise of his dimpled cheeks with the way his eyes are shut. ‘There. That fuck, do that again.’ He commands, and it was like an invisible force were pulling his back off the bed and his hips down when Zayn obliges, taking a nipple between his lips.

Zayn’s pulling back to sit on his knees again when Harry repeats his wishes, growling a little when Zayn gets a hand on his cock and works it in time with the brush against Harry’s prostate. Harry’s close, Zayn can tell. He’s memorized the noises Harry makes when he is, fantasized over that dent that forms between his eyebrows as he comes.

Unfortunately for Harry, that’s exactly where Zayn wants him to be. The hunter ceases his movements just when the muscles clenching around his fingers became more like spasms, and Harry begins whining and snarling at the same time somehow, when Zayn pulls out his fingers.

‘Christ you’re a fucking tease.’ He’s panting into the air but Zayn only chuckles as he bends to catch Harry’s lips in a filthy kiss.

‘You’re not coming like that.’ Zayn informs him before pulling back and watching Harry writhe under him. Squirm against the bed sheets at the way his hot skin feels against the chilled air.

He can’t resist the urge to stop and admire how Harry really is bagging for it, broken of versions of ‘please’ and ‘Zayn’s leaving his mouth, body spread open eager for touch. Like a simple brush on his skin would cause spontaneous vampire combustion.  

And Zayn can’t really look anymore because he’s sure if he prolongs this further his scrotum would blast straight off his body. ‘Jus testing, babe,’ he warns before inserting two fingers before adding a third. He peeks at the status of Harry’s flushed face, ‘okay?’

The vampire’s pink tongue is poking out at his pinker lips and he’s nodding and then shaking his head, ‘more. Need more.’

‘Come here,’ Zayn says knee walking a bit further up the bed and pulling Harry up until he rested on his elbows. Zayn takes a second to stare into Harry’s heated gaze before gesturing to his untouched cock. ‘You know what to do.’

He does, in fact from all the times Harry’s had Zayn do it to him. Harry isn’t protesting either, just _purring_ as he leans forward to take Zayn into his mouth. Zayn could come just from the sensation but digs his nails into the back of his thighs, as he feels the saliva pooling at the ridge of his shaft where Harry’s lips were wrapped.

And then Harry’s pushing down, lowering his mouth to spread it all over, his lips moving back to smear the alternate lubricant over the head of Zayn’s cock. And he’s just gazing into Zayn eyes like he drawing the urge to come up from where he’s been trying to hide it.

Nope. Zayn gets his fingers in a firm grip in Hair locks and pulls him off. ‘That’ll do.’ He says leaning down to peck Harry’s open mouth, ‘lie on your side.’

After Harry does, he follows, trials his fingers up the smooth skin of his legs, hips, arms before settling behind Harry’s back onto an elbow. He taps Harry’s left leg, ‘Lift.’ Zayn demands, catching hold of it and gripping under the knee. He’s a pinch close to thrusting in when his compassion kicks in, ‘you sure, Harry?’

‘Zayn just fuck me before I fuck onto you,’ Harry spits, grinding his ass back in a needy circle. ‘Fucking give it to me.’

He does, shallowly feeding Harry his cock at first before fully pushing in with the sound of Harry’s breaking voice low in his ear, and Zayn swears something bright flashes behind eyes. Like a spark, the flicker of a _BiC_ lighter. The little link in his sternum igniting when he presses his chest closer to Harry’s back after bottoming out.

And, yeah, his insides were definitely an evaporating stew at this point, because everything was hot, like the core of the sun hot. Every time they moved a bit it was like brushing ice, the heat of Harry around his dick was enough to melt his brain and, fuck, the noises Harry breathed.

Zayn is trying to will his body temperature down when Harry twists his neck to toot his lips at him. And then their kissing, slowly but passionately, tongues swirling so enticingly that Zayn has to moan into Harry’s mouth at Harry fucking himself on Zayn’s cock.

‘Shit, you’re so fucking hot.’

Zayn tells him as he peeks over to catch the sight of himself disappearing into Harry, but then Harry’s whining, hips speeding up a bit, ‘Zayn.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ He’s promising against Harry lips before pulling back, ‘don’t come yet Harry.’ he orders and he can tell by the obviously protest that leaves the vampire that it’s going to be hard. ‘Wait for me.’

But he’s pounding into Harry so hard and fast that he’s sure there’s scrapes on the wooden floor from where the bed’s legs had moved. And he’s not even sure if he’s lasting longer than the next few breaths because the burning of his insides, the rhythm of their hips, the sound of their mingled pleasure, hell the knowledge of simply claiming Harry in the way he’s only dreamed is getting to be too much.

So he’s slowing his hips to curve deeply into the shape of Harry’s ass, ‘fuck, babe I’m—’

The chocked grunts Harry had made earlier alerts again and Zayn’s curses and works him through it as he slows to watch the way Harry comes apart in front of him, his untouched cock twitches with the spurts it spews. Every pant that exits his lungs sounds like a moan, as he slumps forward with a shudder; clearly spent and tired.

Zayn would care if he wasn’t planning on taking Harry apart tonight; If Harry hadn’t told Zayn to give it to him.

With his body still burning, he releases the limp leg in his straining hand, and grabs for the side of Harry’s face to look in his eyes. And he’d swear once more that he’d seen a swirl of colour. A familiar swirl that was there and gone in an instant.

Instead he growls, ‘I told you not to come yet.’

Harry pushes out a breathy laugh, eyes half shut with the high of his orgasm still fresh. ‘Sorry. Just—shit it’s— you felt so good. I couldn’t. Don’t think I can.’

Zayn grunts as he pulls his painfully erect penis out of Harry’s bum and then takes Harry’s soft kiss bitten lips over his own. ‘You’ll just have to try harder next time, won’t you?’ Zayn bites into Harry’s neck and could tell he’s already getting worked up again.

Zayn pulls back to get into a kneeling stance, his skin practically crawling with need.

‘Turn around,’ he says, ‘hands and knees.’

**< ><>><<><> **

Zayn thinks there are a couple of words for what he felt like just now. Bliss. Satisfied. The skin covering bones. But he doesn’t mind it at all as he literally lies slathered over Harry’s limp body, leg draped over the hip, hands on the planes of Harry’s chest, and neck thrust into the curve of his neck.

He’s been that way, swathed onto Harry; licking into random parts of his skin, since Harry had kind of fell into a coma after the last round.

You could call it guilt or sympathy, the way he can’t stop touching the dead-to-the-world vampire, but he just couldn’t. Harry had been so good at taking. Letting Zayn drill into him with equal enthusiasm, letting Zayn push another orgasm out of him, taking the fact that Zayn hadn’t let him come again until he finished.

Harry’s body literally drew the internal broiling that was happening inside of Zayn, the literal strength moving out along with the blinding flash behind his eyes and in his chest as he came into Harry’s pliant form. Zayn’s humming at the memory and pressing his lips to the side of the neck closest to him just to feel the way Harry rumbles lightly with a snore.

And fuck he’s so adorable with his lax face, parted lips, and matted knots of hair across his forehead. Beautiful even, in every moment he draws in a breath, but Zayn decides he can ogle him later. That right now he’s choosing to whisper out a truth for the first time, just to see how it would feel to say it to him.

‘I love you.’

A snore freezes halfway up its path in Harry’s nostrils as his eyes fly open. Zayn watches rather amusedly how Harry slowly turns his widened gaze onto him. ‘What?’

‘Did you really just wake from a dead sleep just now?’

‘Zayn,’ he complains with a pout, so of course Zayn has to kiss it away. ‘I said I love you.’ he repeats against Harry’s lips, feeling the way the air he breathed out gets sucked in with Harry's deep inhale.

For a good moment his eyes kind of go glassy looking, fingers hovering over Zayn’s body so close to touching that Zayn can feel the static reaction that would occur had he touched him then.

Zayn doesn’t even wait for Harry’s reaction with would probably be a string of ‘um’s or some other deep voiced stutter, ‘you don’t have to say it back Harry.’

‘What?’ came out again a little differently and then, ‘No—I….’ he stops because he’s laughing and finally pulling Zayn closer. ‘You’re my chosen mate, and you actually love me back. Pardon my reaction; it’s just rare is all.’

Love me back. Love me back….those three words were on a loop for the moment the room had relapsed into silence.

‘Love me back?’ Zayn pushes out after pulling his weight onto his elbow.

Harry’s arching a brow in challenge, ‘that’s what I said.’

‘You love me?’

A nod, ‘I do.’

Zayn’s just now realizing it enough to say it aloud. Though, it’s lurked underneath the wrapping of his body tissue ever since he found out who Harry was but …‘For how long?’

‘Since I marked you,’ Harry whispers, ‘some say it’s hard to distinguish if the love for the mate is because of their blood or because of true feelings; the bond. I’d bet the latter. Given that when I marked you it wasn’t because of the smell of your blood. I saw you, wanted you and wanted you to want me too.’ His voice is a little muffled because he’s trying to kiss at any part of Zayn’s skin, ‘I loved you even when I couldn’t have you.’

‘Same.’ Is all Zayn can get out over the need to press his lips to Harry’s, his need to show him just what it is that he feels around him.

‘Figures,’ Harry murmurs. ‘For how long we’ve been bonded you felt everything I have and I you. The dreams I’ve witnessed might as well been real.’

‘Quiet you. Cant kiss you with your lips moving,’ Zayn says pressing his lips harder into Harry’s. And it’s sweet because Harry’s smiling and his Adam’s apple moving with the sound of his infectious laughter. But then Zayn’s pulling back a little to brush his lips over the mole on Harry’s chin.

He’s remembering the swirling colours that had flashed on Harry’s eyes just before Harry closed them, ‘your eyes; they keep turning luminescent, Harry.’

Harry nods and pokes his tongue out to lick his lips, ‘they do that whenever a vampire is experiencing intense pleasure. It happens mostly when we’re near our mates. Especially mates who look like you, and are hell bent on meriting mind numbing orgasms.’  

Zayn chuckles at the gruffness in Harry’s voice. It’s all a great distraction from where his mind was headed.

‘Do you love me?’ Zayn whispers dragging his hand down the muscle on Harry’s stomach, the abs tensing under his touch.

‘Yes.’ Harry breathes, moaning when Zayn curls his fist around the head of his thickening cock.

Zayn leans down to kiss him, before using all his strength to flip them so that Harry was above him, his legs coming up to wind around Harry’s hips like a weed on a pole. Their doing that dance battle again with their tongues, the skin of their bodies catching and heating against one another, when Zayn twists his hand and then guides the wet tip to circle his entrance.

‘Prove it.’    

Harry does, in the brand that was Harry Styles.

 _His_ Harry Styles.

**< ><>><<><> **

As soon as consciousness returns from its holiday, Zayn can already tell he’s alone. The reason isn’t missing warmth, because the heating system was truly starting to feel hellish, but because he could sense Harry wasn’t there; that link in the center of his chest pulled Zayn in a direction that lead down the stairs and out of his flat. Common sense told him it lead to wherever Harry was.

He lets his hand sit in the body impression of where Harry should have been lying and found it was still warm. Zayn groaned, not completely understanding the low his body feels right then, but then he’s moving, sluggishly, around throwing on articles of clothing without much thought, and following the path where the link in his chest pulled.

Zayn’s walking out into the cold of the purple night sky, thanking his self-consciousness for always leaving his keys in his inner jacket pocket, because he thinks he’s far too drained, too defunct to actually turn around and go back for his car keys.

Even as he drives he’s trying understand what he’s feeling, a hand rubbing at the center of his chest the entire ride, but thens he’s frowning more and more because as he makes familiar turns and curves on the smooth streets, he can already tell where he’s going.

It kind of stimulates his frontal lobe, because his brain his working a little better than when he first woke up. Or maybe it’s just because he finally pulls into the parking lot of his destination, the sensation in his chest feeling as if it were trying to burn itself through the cavity.

He thinks about pinching himself the same way he used to do as a kid, but instead peers through the windshield of his car at the neon lit letters framed in blue and glowing yellow.

_Yaser Corporations_

He’s out of his car before he can even think as to why Harry would be here, or why he would run off to here at 4 in the morning.

Now Zayn’s rushing through the flurries of snowflakes starting to fall and yanking the door open, perhaps a little desperate for answers. For Harry more like.

It’s empty inside, he notices, the lights are still on, but there’s no one here….aside from the vampire standing stalk still in the middle of the lobby with his back facing Zayn. He had arrived just seconds before Zayn if the dissolving snowflakes on his wind swept hair was any indication, his fingers curled in the sleeves of a jacket that looks a lot like the one Zayn owns.

It’s not long before he senses Zayn, either from being a vampire or being in close propinquity to his mate, he’s turning his eyes onto Zayn, and blinking as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, ‘Zayn?’

He says it like its more than a question, a precaution maybe. Probably because Zayn is moving towards him, a blur of hasty strides and then latching onto him as soon as his fingers could reach. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ he’s breathing into Harry’s neck.

He almost goes limp when the pain in his chest subsides a bit at Harry’s touch to the back of his head, to the bone of his hip.

‘That’s my line,’ Harry says before running a soothing hand down Zayn’s back, ‘you’re not supposed to be here or anywhere aside from your bed. Fully bonding with a mate, for human, is dreadful the first few days.’

Zayn shakes his head, reaching up the slide his fingers through the curls he loved so much, ‘you were gone. Couldn’t sleep.’

Harry looks conflicted but happy to see him, ‘the bonding side effects are actually tamer in the presence of the vampire.’ Harry sighs, ‘sorry if you feel like shit. I shouldn’t have left you like that.’

But Zayn’s already shaking his head, smiling at just how truly human Harry is before pulling him into a kiss Zayn had been itching for the minute he woke. And everything melts away, just with seeing Harry. All his questions sealed behind his teeth in a kiss that’s almost the same press of lips that had been their first kiss, and just when he’s about to deepen it, a knowing voice cuts through.

‘How gag worthy.’

Harry pulls back with a groan of annoyance while Zayn’s head nearly flies off his spine when he whips to face the intruder, who just happened to own the building. ‘Uncle Lou?’

Louis moves from where he’s appeared out of nowhere leant against the front desk and starts towards them, ‘young Zayn. Tell me, why is it that you’ve neglected to call for a chat?’ he asks in a teasing tone. ‘Is it his fault?’ he inquires with a finger pointed at Harry.

‘Louis,’ he hears Harry drawl out almost as if to remind the other man of pressing matters. And Zayn is whipping his head back towards the vampire giving Louis this look of familiarity. Acquaintance.

‘What?’ Louis feigns with a shrug.

‘Don’t ‘what’ me,’ Harry’s saying and Zayn can’t stop looking back in forth between them, can’t really comprehend what’s would be blatantly obvious to a senseless dolt. ‘What is: what on earth had you calling for me in the dead of night?’

Calling for him?

‘Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,’ Zayn’s mumbling physically shaking his head to resort his thoughts. ‘You know each other?’

Harry squeezes the curve of Zayn’s shoulder as Louis spares a small pity filled smile, ‘Well, Harold if you must know I’ve heard things, good things, about this hunt for the self-proclaimed Vampire King. Apparently some mental V.E.C. agents blew up his nests and he’s lost all his henchmen.’

Zayn’s processing and processing and he catches the way Harry rolls his eyes at the ‘mental’ jab and how he isn’t surprised that Louis knows this stuff and— oh, look, that’s his legs giving out.

Harry catches him before he can crash completely and holds him up, ‘Zayn…shit you should have stayed home.’ He says patting at his cheeks to make Zayn’s drooping lids flutter.

‘Is he alright,’ Louis asks his voice far away.

Harry pulls an arm over his shoulder and steadies Zayn’s balance with a hand to his waist. ‘Well all of this is probably too much for him to process while the bond is still fresh, have you got anywhere for him to lie down?’

‘Yeah come on,’ Louis says beckoning Harry towards the hall. ‘I’m positive you already knew about the explosions, so clearly that’s not why I summoned you. You know how the King’s got a knack for setting things on fire….well I’d swear to you arson has picked up in all of the regions our hideouts are located in England.’

Harry kind of stops when they reach the door of a cozy looking room with blood red walls, that looks like it should contain fluffy couches with feather filled pillows. ‘So what your saying is—’

The fire alarm screeches from above causing Zayn to wince, Harry to frown at the ceiling, and Louis to shove his hands into his pockets, calmly. Like he had expected it all. ‘Exactly that: He’s here.’

Zayn, feeling as if ants were crawling in the folds of his brain, shakes his head, the sounds of their voices muffled along with the ear bleed inducing alarm.

‘Louis’s a vampire,’ he’s muttering at no one. Because he hasn’t aged, grew, or changed at all and Zayn should have known.

‘He’s a perceptive one innit he?’ Louis ribs to Harry.

‘Lou can we pleeeeasse go lay him down so we can get this over with already?’ Harry whines, even though his hand is thumbing at Zayn’s hipbone. ‘He doesn’t look too—’ he cuts off, sniffing the air and then hissing. It causes both Louis and Zayn to perk up a little, with great effort on Zayn’s part.

Louis steps closer, ‘What is it Haz?’

‘That scent. The one that had been all over the hit that killed Ronnie. Its here.’ and he’s moving then, dragging a slightly blanked out Zayn beside him as he follows and sniffs at the air, which was starting to smell like toxic smoke. Louis was right next to him before he stops, both of them, right as they were about to pass the cafeteria.

‘Harry,’ Louis grits out.

‘I know.’ Is all he says back, as the both of them move as if in sync, turning around to walk towards the smoke clouds starting to sift out the cracks of the closed café doors.

After Louis turns to get a nod from Harry he yanks the doors open, nearly off the hinges, and the instant the barrier is gone the smoke billows out, disorienting the function of their sight and lungs.

The room is darkened by the smoke but there’s a glow of ember near the back of the spacious room. One that grew into a blaze of lines as the fire followed the lines of liquid and branched out.

Zayn’s gagging on the putrid smell of gasoline, as Louis and Harry both drew in the air willingly, ‘there Harry. Can you smell him?’

‘Yeah,’ and now all Zayn can do is hang off Harry’s arm and stare into the growing frown on his face as Harry takes in the plastic chairs melting around them, the plastic shades on the windows liquefy above them, and the horrid smell of burnt _something_ coming from the back of the kitchen.

A shadow appears then, behind the cloak of the curling black clouds, just about 10 yards away. Zayn grapples at Harry’s—it belongs to Zayn—shirt and tries to straighten himself out, when the shadow speaks.

‘After a century of dancing around you, it’s finally come down to this.’

The way Harry locks into place, eyes going large and unblinking has Zayn reaching out to brush at his face, he himself uncomfortable with the energy flowing out of Harry and into himself, ‘Harry.’

The shadow of bulk finally steps forward, walking right through the fire that was burning in front of him, and then he’s speaking again, baritone even deeper and richer with the slight change, ‘it’s been a long time coming,’ he says eyes piercing right through Harry, ‘hasn’t it, boy.’

Zayn feels Louis come to stand on his unoccupied flank, and then takes in the stranger’s curly hair, his eyes, similar to the ones Zayn had gazed into just moments before, the dimples doting his cheeks with the tight smirk he’s giving to Harry.

Louis, who had been glaring daggers into the large vampire, swears bitterly over the crackle of fire as life decides to revisit the shell of Harry body.

‘You have got to be kidding me.’ Louis spits as Harry manages to blink now, slowly as he sort of draws back and Zayn is the one holding him upright.

‘Dad?’

Zayn’s own eyes widen as they turn onto the man whose laugh rings out sharply, so full of vengeance that Zayn can almost taste it, even with the soot coating his tongue. ‘Yes, for a moment I was sure you had forgotten your daddy’s face.’

Harry pushes out a heavy breath with a shake of his curly haired head, ‘how?’

The King grins, sharpening fangs poking out from behind his lips now. ‘Well it should be perfectly obvious ‘how’ to a fellow vampire like you, but that’s no matter. Come now, Harry. Let us finally exchange our little father and son heart to heart.’

 

…..Well, damn.

 

**< ><>><<><> **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truth out. A lot of them actually. How many of you guys saw half of them coming? Were you surprised? Were you happy? Do you want to yell at me? Ugh. \o/ I am sooo happy I’m done with this chapter because damn this was a hard one. Zayn and Harry are actually full on mates now; they feel everything, can sense one another etc. Zayn finally knows about Harry and Louis’s companionship. And Harry’s shit head father is the one that’s been responsible for both Harry and Zayn’s misery. How is he even a vampire? Did you notice Louis's reaction? WTF. 
> 
> All I can say is the next chapter is going to have you feeling sorry for both of them…mostly Zayn. Thanks for reading! And thank you to moni, sashra , ZaynCentric, SavetheOwls and Ronnie_Malik for commenting your thoughts. Have a Holly Jolly Christmas, peeps. Enjoy your family time!!!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may not be…easy to read at first but I meant what I said when I tagged the Eventual Happy Ending. Also I know little to nothing about One Direction, only first and last names, and the first names of close relatives. (As if you hadn’t figured that out yet) so when you read this you’ll notice I never use Harry’s father’s name. Just for the sake of letting them have something to keep. You know.
> 
> Try to keep up, babes. It’s a lot.

**< ><>><<><> **

 

Long after the sardonic resonance of the Vampire King’s voice had died off the silence of had continued. Everyone frozen in contradiction to the way the room they stood in heat up as the flames grew with every inch they gained.

Zayn…he couldn’t take his eyes off of Harry, who looked just about ready to lose his bearings, like if he had an off button for life, he would’ve been pressing it then. The disbelief and general feeling of a having a nest of eels for intestines glowed across the hard angles of his stationary facial features. It flowed into Zayn as if it were actually skin to skin contact.

His brain nothing but Harry. Harry’s distress. The look corrupting the once innocent features on his face. How to erase that look. What the fuck was he going to do?

Louis speaks up over what sounds like one of the shades falling somewhere, ‘That’s your father?’

Harry nods eyes locked with the king’s and Louis curses just as perversely as he had done before, ‘Fuck. Well that’s just—I wasn’t expecting that.’ Was that his voice shaking? No…Not _THE_ teasing overconfident Louis Tomlinson.

But if anyone had noticed they let it die off in the popping crackle around them, probably because the powerful vampire had decided to make his move; stepping a little closer, eyes still trained on Harry. ‘Do forgive my rudeness you two, but I wish to witness my son’s demise with the least amount of distractions as possible.’

Zayn stiffened at the false empathy on his tone, fingers curling tighter in the back of Harry’s jacket when the King turns his demeaning gaze onto Zayn. ‘Choke.’

Zayn does; immediately in fact. The air on its way up his windpipe catches and stays as if stuck on Velcro; and the fright that’s assisted with coming up short on breath is doubled by the panic bleeding out of Harry through their connection. He’s shouting Zayn’s name and trying to hold Zayn’s gaze through his blurring vision.

‘Harry?’ Louis circles in closer, ‘what’s happening to him?’

‘I don’t—’He starts touching at a wheezing Zayn’s cheek and then turning a sharp glare on his father, Harry hisses over his resonating laughter. ‘He’s using compulsion.’

Things are starting to get brighter in the fire lit room, but somehow he manages to push out a meager breath. Compulsion. Mind control….he had thought it was a myth. ‘Zayn listen to me,’ Harry’s rushing in his ear, ‘all compulsive spells can be broken. You have to fight it.’

Then for the second that felt like an eternity, it’s like it’s only the two of them in the room. Like the room isn’t getting hotter with fire, like there isn’t a murderous power hungry vampire attempting to kill them both. It’s like having Liam there to calm him through one of his episodes, the composed way Harry’s blinking at him and soothing the back of his neck, ‘You’re stronger than this.’

But then Harry freezes once more, eyes widening just before a garroted sound comes from the other side of Zayn. Both their eyes swing up to find Harry’s father standing in front of Louis, hand wrapped dangerously tight around the line of his throat. ‘Louis!’

Harry’s yelling, an arm wounding around Zayn’s heaving form, as his father lifts Louis’s kicking feet clear off the floor beneath him, ‘you should never have turned my son, Tomlinson. You should have left him to rot away with time like he had done me.’ and then he’s flinging Louis clear across the room as if he weighed nothing.

Louis shoots through the flames until his head knocks violently into the nearest wall, and he’s out; before he even hits the ground. Before the rubble that crumbles with the aftershock of his collision has the chance to hit him there on the floor.  

‘No.’ Harry dejects, his hands falling off of Zayn with the worry that floods him for Louis. And it causes Zayn to slump to the floor, chocking on what seems to be smoke, gasoline, air and…was that blood on his palm? Shit.

Harry’s Father turns to face his son with a pathetic look on his face, ‘Louis and I go way back. It truly displeases me to treat him that way. Though I’m sure he’ll get the gist after I’ve killed all of you.’

Zayn can tell Harry is torn; a hand hovering so close over his body that Zayn can sense it swiping through the air when Harry starts to swing his head back and forth; eyes on his suffocating mate, on his sociopathic father, and on his maker, dead to the world under a pile of debris.

In fact he’s so wrapped up in Louis and Zayn that he misses exactly when his father materializes behind him. ‘Are you ready to die son?’ he solicits causing Harry to start and turn towards him; backing up to match every step the King made. ‘Truly this time, so you’ll witness life leaving your body? No vampire tricks this time around, yeah?’

Zayn pulls a strangled breath in as looks up just in time to catch Harry’s father moving passed him, walking towards his mate calmly, hands clasped behind his back. And fuck if he could just breathe, stop chucking up his own insides he could help Harry because the panic, the dread pouring off of him is practically palpable without being linked to him.

At that moment he didn’t even care that Harry apparently knew a lot more than he had been willing to tell. That he kept important things like Louis from him, he just wanted to stop this; the pain lightly covering every other emotion like a thin coat of icing. Harry didn’t deserve this.

‘Are you ready to finally be with your mother once more?’ his father taunts, strides seeming to get wider. Zayn watches as Harry blinks, shaking his head minutely and then something akin to determination pushed aside the other emotions clouding their bond.

‘How did you become a vampire?’ Harry requests as the pace of their steps lead him closer and closer to the cafeteria’s wall.

His father is already shaking his head, ‘I already gave you an answer to that question, Harry.’

‘No,’ Harry says, and Zayn can feel it, there on the gas soaked floor, the sear that came with Harry backing his way through a bushel of flames, as if it were his own body. But the vampire doesn’t even flinch. ‘Who turned you? Was it him?’ he bites out subsequently jerking his head towards Louis’s body.

‘No,’ the King hums and then stops when Harry’s back finally hits the wall he’d been purposefully backing him into. ‘I was a vampire a bit before your maker and I crossed paths. Let’s just say I saved his life…and he owed me his in return.’

Zayn can feel understanding wash through his mate as Harry nods, eyes closed like he actually see’s what he’s been missing. ‘You’re the reason Louis joined the vampiric regime.’

‘Bingo.’ His father clarifies, ‘and also coincidently the reason you and Veronica joined as well, killing three birds with one stone and I hadn’t even planned it that time.’

‘So who?’ Harry tries again, holding his ground when his father steps closer into his space. And Harry’s turning his head futilely when the King reaches out a hand to stroke it down his cheek. Lovingly, fatherly, causing both Harry and Zayn’s skin to crawl.

He pulls Harry’s chin until their gazes are locking, and even though everything about Zayn is burning right now, let’s not even mention the lungs, it burns so fucking badly. Literally fries his brain to see someone else handling Harry like that. Kin or not; his fingers curled by his side as he wheezed, feeling how uncomfortable Harry was pulsing through his own body.

‘Well,’ he starts, fitting Harry’s face between the wedge of his thumb and forefinger. ‘Since you’ve taken so exclusively after your mother, I’ll tickle the fancy you share for being impossibly stubborn. After Anne passed and you abandoned me…I lost myself to booze and nameless females, buried myself in them to dull the pain of leading the life I’d lived.’

Harry’s sneering at him, looking right pissed, ‘You say that as if it were a new occurrence.’

But the King only laughs, moves his hand along Harry’s jaw so he could cup his face. ‘Anyway, one of the females I picked up one night turned out to be a vampire. A child, she drained my blood while I had been asleep and then turned me. She told me afterwards that she’d decided to save me because I reminded her of her father. As soon as I gained enough strength, her blood was the first to dirty my claws.’ He finishes patting at Harry’s cheek. ‘Hers certainly wasn’t the last. The same will go for your blood, Harry.’

Harry recoils from his father’s touch then, looking as if he were attempting to mold himself into the material of the wall, but his father is catching his chin harshly then, halting Harry’s movements. ‘Be still.’

As soon as Harry locks up with the command, Zayn can tell it’s another compulsive spell. He can almost feel the breath whoosh out of his mate’s body, the panic return with a vengeance it hadn’t shown before.

‘Now you’ve been trying to kill me ever since you found out you could after joining the regime. It must be liberating to know now that it’s your father you’ll have to end in order to gain the crown, given that you had never actually cared for me as a father. You’ve always hated my very existence and that’s fine with me because if it wasn’t clear I’ve hated you right back.’

Zayn feels the hand clamping around Harry’s throat before his squinting eyes could actually distinguish it, and it lights his blood like fire to methane. Zayn looks up to see his mate struggling for breath and then he’s fighting against the spell put on him more fiercely than he originally thought himself capable.

‘Always, no matter how much pride I had in how strong you had become as a man,’ the king continues, ‘I hated you and the relationship you shared with your mother so deeply that at one point I had been convinced it would be the death of me. How much your mother loved you. I had slept with so many other women because I was convinced she had been having her way with you.’

There’s a spark then in Harry’s eyes, and in the link between the mates. It burns and spreads through the skin on his bones like butter over bread. Invigorating and sudden, with the way Harry gives a battle cry, and then his hand is freed form the spell because he’s swinging at his father.

And it’s great for Zayn witnessing the fact that compulsion could be broken, but then Harry’s father is capturing his arm and squeezing so tightly that Zayn’s own wrist is screaming at the feeling of his bones grating against one another.

Harry grunts and struggles where stands causing his father to belly laugh. ‘Resistance isn’t an option, son.’ He derides as the hand around Harry’s throat tightens.

‘I am the King therefore I am stronger than all of you. You may have broken my spell, but a vampire with the strength that you have trying to overthrow me…its like humans spitting on a God. Accept it. This is a game at which you cannot prevail. Just die.’

The sounds of bones cracking ensues over everything else and then Harry’s agonized bellows enters the air so sharply that it probably pierces clean through the cloak of smoke hovering beneath the ceiling and then Zayn’s on his feet and he’s moving, obviously running since the image of the two vampires approaches him quickly. ‘Stop it!’ he yells.

But before he could really reach them the hand crushing the bones inside of Harry’s wrist moves to push off Zayn’s rebuttal. The King turns to him with genuine astonishment in his eyes, ‘Well isn’t this a shocker. I figured that I had compelled you enough so that you’d be coughing up your lungs by now but here you stand. Are you actually still breathing?’

Zayn jerks against the fist balled into the front of his jacket, ‘Stop hurting Harry.’

‘Zayn, no.’ Harry’s chastising, voice barely there anymore, but his father stops his mocking chuckles just to clamp his hand tighter on Harry’s throat.

‘Shut it,’ and it’s another command that Harry can’t help but follow as his father turns his eyes back onto Zayn ‘Exactly what is it you’re going to do about it?’

Zayn scoffs, a hand on his pocketed switch blade before he could think up a plan. However it becomes clear, like crystal clear, that this vampire who is no doubt Harry’s father is the strongest one yet, because it’s like he knows, the moment before Zayn gets to swing his armed hand at him what Zayn’s plan is.

He seizes it almost exactly like Harry had when Zayn had been convinced Harry was in Liam’s office to kill them all, except this time the pain is something Zayn is sure he’ll remember even when he’s dead. The clean crack! that comes with the break of his wrist has him yelping and kneeling with the pain.

‘You,’ the King growls, ‘disappoint me even more than my own son, Malik boy.’ He spits while looking at Zayn as if he were dog shit on his shoe, ‘I pity Yaser for producing the seed to create you. Defending the very vampire who obliterated the peaceful piss poor life you had once lived.’  

Zayn frowns not just because of the words being thrown at him, but because the sudden rush of horror that washes over his and Harry’s bond. He looks to his mate to see the curly haired vampire’s eyes widening tenfold and his face bunched up over his father’s hand, almost pleading with him to cut off this train of conversation.

‘What?’

‘What do you mean ‘What’?’ The king scowls for a second but then he’s smiling like he had just hit a billion dollar jackpot, ‘oh, I see. You poor little bastard. You don’t remember a thing. He’s compelled you hasn’t he?’

Zayn would love to think that he’s got a high tolerance for pain, but right now he could barely keep his fucking eyes open. Too much confusion. Too much movement…too much everything. He was sure that he would implode with the likes of a landmine at any second. Either that or faint and fall back into a crowd of flames. In his state both were desirable right then.

Zayn gives a weak jolt toward the hand on his fractured wrist, ‘what are you talking about?’

Harry’s father was almost like a spitting image of him then, giving Zayn the look like he was about explain something simple but make it complicated. ‘Compulsion is one of the higher weapons in a vampire’s arsenal, boy. We can make several of your dearest family members appear to be your greatest enemies. After all what’s more frightening than manipulating the mind?’

It’s a rhetorical question, he thinks, so Zayn waits for him to continue. ‘It’s not only frightening but powerful. Something a mere human can’t easily fight off. Even for a vampire at his strength level he could have completely erased your mind had he desired it. But that’s not what you want to hear….’

He looks down on his son with a sharp grin. ‘I have a feeling that Harry can show you better than I can tell you.’

Zayn turns his squinting eyes onto his mate when his father turns to him, releasing the hold on his neck to pull at the front of his shirt, ‘come Harry. Let us give your mate a show.’ He suggests while pulling the vampire down so he was opposite of Zayn on his knees.

The hunter is staring at the red welts around Harry’s neck when the King decides to speak again, ‘claws out.’ and then their all watching with bewilderment on both Zayn and Harry’s part as the nails on his finger elongate without his permission.

‘Curl your fist.’ He demands, chuckling when the claws puncture the flesh of Harry’s palm around the sound of his grunt of pain. ‘You need direct contact of blood and spinal fluid to achieve memory transfusion. Now if you could bring your fingers up to nape of his neck. Place them there before breaking the skin.’

Zayn can feel that Harry’s is resisting as much as he can see it, his fingers along with the apple of his cheeks shaking with it, nevertheless his clawed hand is moving with the way he’s reaching passed Zayn’s cheek, behind his ear, and around the side of his head to hover above his neck.

Harry is shaking his head, tears forming in the corners of his beautiful eyes, and it stops Zayn’s heart when he whispers, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Do it.’ The King demands and Harry obliges.

Zayn’s eyes are open long enough to glimpse the fat tears rolling down Harry’s face before they’re closing with pain he’s never felt before in his life. And then he’s falling into an abyss blacker than the kind a dreamless night could provide.

 

**< ><>><<><> **

 

Images of color flicker, contrasting against the darkness for a moment, and then stronger like the first rays of sunshine in the morning. With the pain slowly fizzling out to a dull burn it took a moment but Zayn found himself and promptly remembered what was happening, started to catch and hold onto to those flickering little nothings and comprehend them.

He saw Harry. Harry. Harry and more Harry.

A smaller much more adorable Harry was crying in a woman’s lap. Him doodling tactlessly in the binding of an old journal. Him sitting on a cream coloured couch laughing with a house servant. Him being fitted for a suit, peeling an orange, fucking a girl, fucking another girl and another and many more until Zayn’s desperate for something to punch.  

After a torturous moment, Harry’s lying in bed alone, eyes screwed shut as he helplessly listens to an argument intruding his room. The next moment he’s weeping on what has to be his lifeless mother’s hand, and then he’s shooting a rifle in a war setting and yelping afterwards when the world explodes around him.

The next image that comes is Harry lying on a heap of wood, bleeding out from a wound on his leg. His eyes are moving like his vision is dancing, but then Louis; a rather dirty half naked wild looking Louis is on top of him and coaxing his blood into Harry’s mouth.

Afterwards everything just sort of moves like its being fast forwarded on a DVD player until the fleeting images of Harry’s past finally stick to the picture of a dark night. The scenery unmistakable due to the fact that Zayn had memorized every detail he could remember of that night.

It was November 27th 2001.

 

**< ><>><<><> **

 

Harry sat in the backseat of an SUV, eyes closed as he twiddled his thumbs lazily.

‘You’re awfully quiet back there, King.’ A familiar voice directs at Harry.

‘Leave him be, Veronica. And stop calling him King, will you? Don’t think his ego would be able to fit the damn car if you keep at it.’  

‘Jealousy is a repulsive trait, Nicholas.’ Veronica retorts with an arched brow, ‘It isn’t his fault Louis didn’t make you his protégé, you should try being nicer.’

‘I will when he stops being such a little prick.’

Of course Veronica wrangles back, ‘and what has he done to you now that’s twisted your knickers so tight?’

‘I don’t know, yet.’ Nick admits using a finger to tap at his chin, ‘his dimples seemed a bit deeper today, I’ve decided. Why is it you’re always taking up for him anyway?’

There’s a chuckled stutter then, ‘why do you always feel the need to antagonize him?’

‘Maybe it’s because he never gives me a reaction. He never talks to anyone other than you and Louis.’ Nick ticks off like he’s giving someone the time of day, ‘I doubt he’s ever actually looked at me before. What do you two have that I don’t?’

Veronica rolls her eyes, ‘now you just sound like a whiny brat.’

Nick gives her look and it’s hard to distinguish whether he’s joking or not ‘Not that I’m complaining I just want to understand is all. I don’t think Hazza likes the Grimmy.’

‘Ick. Well-’

‘I don’t believe trained assassins are supposed to be this noisy,’ Harry interjects before Veronica could get her piece in. Both the vampires in the front turn in time to watch his green eyes pop open before he’s glancing down at the face of his watch. ‘However that’s just my opinion. It’s 1:58. Grab the stuff so we can get this over with.’

He’s out of the car and walking through the rain towards the family house before the others can respond. The front porch creaks beneath his shoes as he stands and takes in the shaggy little home up close, face sort of pinching in sympathy.

‘See there’s another thing,’ Nicks whispering to Veronica as they walk up the front steps, ‘It’s like he thinks he’s our boss. Who made him team leader?’

‘‘Why does this mission require a team?’ is the question you should be asking. Moron.’ Veronica snaps but Nick merely shrugs in agreement.

‘True. Since your maker is more than capable of handling this on his own.’

The front door swings open to reveal the topic of conversation.

‘Come on in children,’ Louis invites with a Cheshire grin, ‘let the fun begin.’

Harry shares a look with Louis before walking over the threshold after the other vampires who were giggling excitedly, and to think they had just been bickering. ‘Quietly, you two. Yaser’s kids sleep lightly. There’s no need to wake them.’ Louis whisper/yells to Veronica and Nick playing catch with an explosive.

Harry picks up one just for the hell of looking like he doing as much as the others. His eyes watching how Nick places one in the far corner of the living room, Veronica places one in the center of the chimney, Louis as he juggles four for amusement and how he nearly drops them when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

Harry avoids any pursuit of interaction and turns towards the stairs; losing himself in the quiet hiss of the heating system reverberating off the thin walls in the house. And then he’s touching at the center of his chest with a frown, his legs moving on their own accord up towards the second floor until he stops in front of a door left ajar.

Lightning flashes across is face as he pushes the door further open and promptly backs himself into the shadows of the nearest wall, looking as if he had been scorched. Harry’s eyes were glued to the figure of the small boy lying rigid straight in the center of his bed, his legs are moving even though his lips are pulling over his teeth as if he means to hiss.

The vampire rubs at the center of his chest before he slowly, carefully, moves to lean over the lip of the bed; one hand on either side of the boy’s skinny hipbones, and then his breath is gone when he finally gets a good look at his face.

For long moment he’s staring straight into the eyes of the small boy, who seemed to be locked up with fear, eyes watering a bit. Harry’s speaking then, loudly, seemingly before he can stop it. ‘I can’t.’ he says shaking his head.

And it’s effortless what follows, the small boy sitting bolt upright in bed, scampering as far as the headboard would allow, ‘what are you doing in—what are you?’

Harry numbly reaches out a hand to brush at the side of the kid’s forehead, ‘sleep.’

It’s a command so when the boy falls heavily against the mound of his pillow, Harry takes a moment to think. His brain not entirely sure what to do….

‘My mate cropping up as a victim to one of my missions is purely undesirable. Never even wanted a mate in the first place.’ Harry runs his hands through his hair, pulling at the edges harshly.

But he’s looking down at his chosen mate with a pained expression. And—

‘I can’t not save him.’ he finalized and the boy is in his arms in the next second and Harry’s cradling him; pulling the boy’s head enough so that his chin hooked over Harry’s shoulder, so that his feet dangle when Harry effortlessly moves towards the window of his room.

Louis’s calling out for him just as he gets the glass to open with one hand, so when Harry turns around to spot him leaning into the doorway with a confused expression, he just gives a short shake of his head before gracefully fitting he and the boy through the opening of the window.

‘Harry, wait—’

When his feet hit ground level, he’s walking aimlessly straight away. It seems as soon as the dwindling raindrops hit the boy’s skin he awakens once more and not long after that he’s kicking and grunting in realization, ‘let me go!’

‘No.’

He pushes at Harry’s chest, ‘put me down.’

‘No.’

‘Yes! Right now.’

‘No.’

‘Fuckin’ listen to me!’

‘No.’

‘I swear I’m going to scream really loud if you don’t.’

‘No, you won’t.’

The boy doesn’t and the simple fact seems to anger him more, ‘take me back to my room, you creep.’

‘Can’t do that,’ Harry replies, hoisting the boy over his shoulder.

‘I’ll hit you really hard if you don’t. I mean it.’

‘Won’t matter.’ he was already doing his best to Harry and it wasn’t really much to begin with.

‘This is kidnappin’. You’ll go to jail when they catch you.’

‘Not likely.’

The boy huffs after pounding on Harry’s back does nothing, ‘where are you taking me?’

‘Someplace safe.’ The vampire replies and like the sweetest bout of irony that a small shelter located in the nest of branches atop a tree appears then.

‘This is my tree house, my latter. I built it,’ the boy begins to grumble as Harry climbs the steps of the latter to his tree house. ‘Therefore _I_ have a say in who enters. My dad said so and guess what? You're not allowed up here.’

‘Don’t care.’

Grrr.

‘ _Do_ you know how to make a sentence with more than three words?’

Silence

The boy’s watching as the ground becomes further away with every step up the latter until he’s being laid down on the cool soil on the floor of the tree house. His shivering immediately stumped a bit when Harry throws his jacket over him.

Harry walks to the opening of the tree house, plunges his fangs into the flesh beneath his thumb and smears the blood onto the wooden boards on the outside , sheltered by the roofing. Satisfied that it would stay he turns back to the skinny boy whose eyes are locked on his hand from where he lay.

‘You’re bleeding.’

The wound heals up just after he finishes the thought, ‘not anymore.’

‘Why’d you do that?’ the human asks, chin jerking towards where Harry had smeared his blood on the wooden planks outside.

‘Keeps the other’s away.’ Harry shrugs before reaching a hand back blindly to successfully grab the wooden chair tucked into the draw out table in the corner.

‘You’re not human are you?’ it’s a statement really.

‘Zayn.’ Harry sighs, ‘could you just give me a moment of silence and then you can say anything you want. Anything.’

For a second the kid obliges and Harry gets to bury his face into the shield of his hands to think up some sort of plan.

‘How do you know my name?’

Harry freezes…that was a good question. He looks at Zayn after second and then deducts any other possibilities. ‘I just do. You know my name too don’t you?’

Zayn stares at Harry for a long moment, so intently that Harry misses how one of his slender hands reaches down to pinch at his pajama clad thigh until he winces.

Harry frowns, ‘don’t do that.’

‘This has to be a dream.’ Zayn mutters to himself, eyes glued to the ceiling. ‘Right Harry?’

It’s then that any shred of doubt Harry has slithers out and drowns in the downpour outside. Harry closes his eyes for a second and doesn’t open them until his decision was final. He slides down off the chair onto his knees to crouch over Zayn.

‘Harry?’

The vampire smiles sweetly, ‘I’m going to tell you a secret.’ He whispers before leaning down to whisper at the shell of Zayn’s ear. ‘You’re going to go to sleep Zayn. You’ll rest and when you awaken you won’t remember any of this. Not my name, not my face, nor my existence. This was just a dream. All of it was a silly nightmare.’

Harry can feel Zayn shaking his head, sluggishly, due to the compulsion, but he still manages to slur something out, ‘that’s not—why are you—Harreh ‘m—’

‘Sleep Zayn,’ Harry coaxes. ‘It’ll make everything better.’

His head thumps against the soft dirt when consciousness finally leaves him while Harry’s left to breathe unevenly out into the spores of dirt kicking up around movement in general. As if resistance were a nuisance Harry’s leaning over Zayn’s face; nose brushing a bit against the human’s until his finally gets a whiff of Zayn’s blood.

His fangs sprout out the instant he does and plunges into the soft petal of Zayn’s lower lip. Harry, who had jolted backwards with the contact, whined when blood began to seep from the fang indentations on his lip. He could tell it was pooling at the back of the boy’s throat by the second and…

Harry leans down to swipe his salivated tongue over the wound on Zayn’s lips stunting the blood flow. Then he’s pulling himself back into the wooden chair, and waiting. Until Zayn stops shivering, until the sun turns the blackness to grey, until he can smell smoke curdling off in the distance.  

After a moment of staring at the sleeping boy’s face, Harry moves, removing his jacket carefully, pushing the chair back into the table opening, and then he’s gone before Zayn wakes.

 

**< ><>><<><> **

 

Zayn’s eyes pop open in the present and it’s like everything explodes out at him, the pain coursing through his body, the knowledge of what he could never remember, the emotions flooding between he and Harry’s link and…the hurt from putting his trust in the very thing he despised most in the world. The very vampire who haunted his nightmares.

He’s looking at Harry until the vampire’s eyes blink open, wet and red, and then he’s shaking his curly haired head, ‘no, that was a mistake. I didn’t, Zayn you’ve got to believe me—’

‘That’ll be enough out of you, chatterbox,’ the King decides as he pulls Harry’s chin up to shut his mouth forcefully. And all Zayn can do is bow his head, feed into the sharp sears of pain that Harry’s claws imbedded in his neck provided.

Harry’s the reason his he’s lived after his family died. Harry could have saved his family but didn’t. Harry saved him and then abandoned him. Harry killed his family. Harry’s a vampire. A cold heartless vampire. And it’s like all of their sweet memories were catching fire; burning away with the bitterness that came with being near Harry right then.

‘No,’ Harry struggles out, obviously reacting to the vibes Zayn was sending through their link.

‘Look what you’ve done, Harold.’ His father merits, ‘You managed to turn the fiercest vampire hunter in the world into a speechless mound of hate. I’ve never experienced so much pride.’

But Harry’s crying, Zayn can hear it, is numb to it, like he is to the entire situation.    

‘It’s clear that the boy never wanted to be rescued in the first place, yet you did because you’re selfish. Just like your mother was.’

‘Don’t.’ Harry warns, ‘leave her out of this.’

‘I’m merely pointing out the obvious, son. Your mate clearly no longer desires life, much less a life with you, so maybe you could gain forgiveness by actually doing him a favor this time round, eh?’

Harry pushes out a wet breath, still trying to reach Zayn through their bond. It’s only when horror fills shred of bond left that Zayn can feel that the hunter actually looks up at the vampires.

Harry’s pleading; face wet, eyes begging as his father whispers something in his ear. ‘Daddy, don’t make me do this. Please don’t make me do this.’

‘We can actually work on this father and son issue after you’ve done what I’ve asked you nicely.’

Harry only cries harder, head shaking the tears dangling off the bottom f his chin as he sniffles and pleas ‘don’t make me do this.’

‘You don’t have a choice anymore, Harry.’ his father simplifies, ‘I want you to drag your claws down to his throat, and tear them out so that I can see the skin of his esophagus.’

‘Dad, no— I can’t. I— don’t make me, please—’

‘NOW!’

And it painless for the most part, when Harry’s claws finally crumble under the command. It’s nothing really different from what he’s already experienced working this kind of job. And in that moment, right when Harry’s bloody claws exit the wound of Zayn’s throat he realizes it’s virtually painless. He doesn’t even realizes he’s falling until his head knocks against the marble floor.

And then his eyes are closing to the sound Harry’s wail.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

It only causes the King to laugh harder, the sight of his son, weeping, sobbing so loudly that a baby would pale in comparison. He’s thrashing where he sits, clawed hand reaching for his mate’s body desperately.

‘Well that’s a pity.’ He mock scolds, ‘he was only trying to gain the memories you took from him, you didn’t have to claw him out so viciously.’ And then he’s laughing at his own humor before giving his howling son a sympathized look, ‘he’ll be dead after a while…not only will he die hating you he’ll die knowing half the truth.’

He waits until Harry pulls in a shaky breath and gives him the attention he wants, ‘Did you know that the Malik bloodline was that of a powerful one?’ he asks offhandly, ‘his father, Yaser, came from a long line of vampires, hunters, and scientist alike. He himself was both a genius skilled in combat, who created brilliant weapons for and against vampires. A double agent if you will.’

‘when it became unclear as to which side Yaser was truly on I placed that hit on the Malik’s.’ he goes on over Harry’s unintelligible babbling, ‘I knew then though. When Zayn didn’t turn up with the rest of the brandy bunch that something went off kilter.’

Turn up….

‘An old gypsy woman warned me years before then that my son would merge with one of my greatest enemies. So I could tell it was your doing. You’ve always caused more trouble than naught.’ He says eyes dancing over the burning remains of the fire spreading out of the double doors now. ‘The boy’s family never died.’

Harry sniffles and turns his blotchy face towards his father who only smirks, ‘yes, you were too busy breaking protocol to notice I called the entire mission off.’

He’s walking around to stand over Zayn’s still body, tucking his hands deep into his pockets, ‘Your precious maker Louis, a dear friend of Yaser’s, convinced a handful of us that Malik was valuable, much too valuable to murder. In turn he had also convinced Yaser to come quietly which he did, on the condition that the mission be sought through so that the bodies in the home would appear to be his families own.’

Harry frowns down at Zayn, before shutting his eyes against the second wave of guilt hitting him. ‘God.’

‘It’s actually a noble act all things considered.’ His father goes on, ‘faking your own death so that those around you wouldn’t be bothered with the whole “kidnapping” plan I had elaborated. Hold on a minute,’ he asks before shouting for someone.

‘Pfaff come here for a moment.’ When a door untouched by flames opens to their right and a vampire comes out, the King smiles welcomingly, ‘meet my new son, Harold. Thomas Pfaff.’

Harry is seethes there on the floor, everything about him prickling with rage and vengeance, but Thomas looks more stunned at the sight of Zayn than anything else. ‘I turned him just after you and that human exterminated my men.’ He says to harry and then gives Thomas a gratifying look, ‘Do go and fetch the prisoners would you, my boy?’

And he’s still for a moment, eyes glued to Zayn, no doubt to the blood steadily oozing out of Zayn’s neck before hastily turning and exiting the door.

‘After I found out you had been captured and agreed to work with V.E.C. corp. it was in my best interests to find any possible way I could harm you without actually making contact.’ The King informs carelessly, ‘that’s when I recruited Thomas Pfaff in order to keep you two apart as long as I could without actually injuring Yaser’s boy. Tom was more than capable, he failed of course but he was all I had left when you pulled that little explosive stunt.’

Harry’s crying again, not because of how ridiculous this all was, but because the bit of Zayn he could feel through the bond was fading quicker than he could grasp.

‘Yes, I know,’ his father coos, ‘it hurts. You must understand by now that everything Zayn has suffered through is because of you. Had you left the boy alone he could have been with his family the entire time. Had you and that human not blown up my nests this wouldn’t even be occurring right now. Hell, I only kidnapped his surrogate mother because I was pissed at you for it.’

As if on cue the sounds of struggle enter the toxic air as three women, two teenage girls and a man gets shoved violently through the door Thomas had exited.  

Several shrieks of horror permeated the air then, only serving to increase Harry’s sorrow and the laughs that tumble out of his father’s throat. Harry’s looking over to find what has to be Zayn’s mother pulling the three girl’s faces towards her as she yells her grief towards the ceiling. The middle aged woman next to her patted at her stomach with a hand over her mouth.

While Yaser…well Yaser was furious, face twisting fiercely as he jabs a finger towards Harry's father. ‘God damn you, we had a deal!’

‘The blood isn’t on my hand young one,’ The king points out, ‘I’ve only don’t what I had to out of self-defense.’

And it would be so believable, the scene of Harry’s claws dripping with blood over Zayn’s still body, if the tears streaming down his face, the desperation in his the way he reaches for him weren’t present.

Thomas, who appeared to want to be anywhere else, finally gave in and turned his eyes back onto Zayn; Face pinching up in a way that matched Harry’s almost identically.

The King waves his hand towards Harry’s shaking form ‘So now, Yaser Malik. I bestow unto you the opportunity to take the life of the vampire who took the life of your son.’

It’s silent for moment where Harry’s willing to do anything to join Zayn. But nothing comes after that either, nothing but the dismay of his mate’s family, the alarm sounding around them, the fire melting down anything in its path, and….was that barking?

The King chuckles, his voice mocking despite his offerings. ‘This is your final opportunity to—’

Harry, grasping through the link at Zayn, only notices something is up when his father’s word-bile cuts off abruptly. It happens all at once kind of, the barks he’s sure he’s been hearing turning into growls, the middle aged woman screaming out ‘Tetsuo!’ just as a large salt and pepper coloured canine bounds through the door and lunges for Thomas’s neck.

And then his father his sort of falling comically slowly next to where Harry knelt on the floor, followed by a large slab of rock skidding across the slippery floor.

‘That’s about enough of that.’ a  gruff voice decides through an exhale.

‘Louis!’ Harry hollers, whipping his head up as everything around him starts to go their own pace once more. The sound of the dog tearing into a yelling Thomas’s neck was much more satisfying then.

But Harry still doesn’t watch as Louis comes round to grasp his unconscious father's neck, doesn’t really anticipate the _crack!_ that sounds when Louis twists sharply.

Everything would have been much more gratifying; his father being no more, Louis becoming the King, Zayn’s family being alive, Thomas way too girly shrieks bouncing off the burning room’s walls, had Zayn not been….

Harry starts, prpelling into action as soon as he finds he’s able to move, ‘Louis, get them out of here before the bloody building collapses. Make sure the dog doesn’t kill Pfaff.’

Louis is staring down as Harry gathers Zayn’s body in his arms before looking over to the mauling Thomas was taking and tsks. ‘Believe me I’m a bit cross with the Thomas part, but also...don’t you need me here to stop you from draining too much blood. You are going to turn him right?’

Harry brushes a raven lock from his mates face. ‘Yes, but I’m giving him my blood.’

There’s another gap filled with Thomas’s yelps and something clattering to the ground from the ceiling when, ‘you know that only really works if you’re powerful enough, Haz. There’s a chance he won’t make it that way. There’s a certain amount of blood you can give a human without them—’

‘I know!’ Harry bellows while bending over to shield Zayn from another piece of the ceiling that falls next to them. ‘But if I turn him he’s not going to be a miserable nightwalker. I can do it, Lou, just please get them out of here before it’s too late.’

Annndd Louis still doesn’t move.

‘Just trust me, will you!’

‘Alright then, fucking hell,’ Louis roars back before marching into the direction of Zayn’s family. ‘If you die, I will kill you Harold.’ He yells out from across the room before his presence is no longer noticeable to Harry.

Harry’s already too busy wrapped up in Zayn. He can barely remember a time where he wasn’t since it had been 13 years he had craved him, yearned to be near his side as much as he resisted. He’s looking down at his mate’s chest faintly rising and falling, connecting to the slow pulse of his heartbeat which would no doubt be undetectable to a human.

And then finally to his torn neck. It reminded Harry of all those anatomy pictures he had to look at when he was in school, but then he’s biting into the vein of his wrist and lowering the dripping wound over Zayn’s mouth. He’s whispering in his ear as he rocks him, lacing their fingers together and pleading for him to come back.

‘You can’t die Zayn.’ Harry’s saying into the skin of Zayn’s cheek, breath bristling the silky hairs of his closed eyelashes. ‘You can’t leave me. We promised remember?’

The tears running onto Zayn’s still face increase when nothing improves, not his heart, nor the bond. ‘Come back to me and I’ll make it all up to you.’ He begs silently, ‘No, you can hate me just come back, please?’

Harry squeezes his fist so that more blood can drip down the cavern of Zayn’s mouth quicker. ‘Just don’t die. Don’t do this to your family.’

After a while when Harry starts to get dizzy with blood loss, or the fact that he’d been breathing in so many toxic fumes, he stops. Allowing his wound to heal, Harry places Zayn onto the floor and grips at his shirt as he blubbers into his motionless chest.

Listens to the silence of his heartbeat, the empty vessel of Zayn’s lungs, feels the bond ebb away until there’s nothing left but the sounds of Harry’s failure.

‘I’m sorry.’ He sniffles. The vampire raises himself uncaring of the how the room was falling down around him now, numb to the way flames were starting to lick at his legs. He presses his lips to Zayn’s already determined to stay with him as long as his life could cling to his own body, when gentle hands curl around his waist and there’s unmistakable pressure against Harry’s lips.

For a moment Harry’s lost in the sweet sound of the jackrabbit heartbeat matching his own, the side of the bond Zayn shares actually reaching out for Harry’s, and the breath entering the once silence lungs, until the lips under Harry’s push a little harder and then rough wet muscle is in his mouth tangling with his tongue.

Harry pulls back to find those beautiful honey brown eyes staring up into his own, ‘Harreh.’ He mumbles groggily just like he did when he was a kid.

‘Zayn,’ Harry counters and since he’s lost all ability to stop, Harry’s crying a-fucking-gain. ‘Welcome back, my love.’

 

**< ><>><<><> **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not entirely sure what to say here except that if you didn’t understand something come give me a yell in the comment section. If you like it or hated it the same thing goes. Hopefully this one didn’t disappoint you guys because I know you’ve been waiting. I’ve worked all night on it and it probably still has like grammatical errors everywhere. Thanks for reading and giving Kudos they make me smile. And last but not least thank you to those who commented being Mccutie22, moni, SavetheOwls, Ronnie_Malik, zarry3 (Jeri_1116), MaddyTinkerbell, and I think my new fiancé Cara lol thankx a bunch you guys.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii i missssed yooou xx

**< ><>><<><> **

 

Zayn was never really fond of winged insects. Not since Thomas had accidently punted a soccer ball right into a nest of wasps nuzzled underneath the bottom of Zayn’s tree house the summer of ages ago.

He disliked the sound of fruit flies or honey bees near his ears after the nest plummeted to the ground afterwards and cracked open at their feet.

Actually, he was certain that he’d never top the pace at which he ran when the wasps decided to swarm them, acting like a physical force with the way they herded the boys around Zayn’s backyard until they found refuge in the back of his neighbour’s speed boat; the blue cover over it polka dotting with the way the angry mob pelted against it.

They hid out there until the buzzing relented and the moon shone particularly brightly through the cover. Consequently that dreadful day is the sole reason he down right bitch glares at anything that flies near him. The reason he absolutely can’t stand the sound.

Which is more than utterly— _predictably_ —ironic since everything around Zayn was buzzing right then. As he stood outside the furnace of the burning building behind him, Zayn realized he could feel it in his teeth. The vibrations reverberating off the skin of his bones, the skin over them shivering under the thin layer of his clothes.

His entire body locked up with the way the universe appeared to be spinning around him in a kaleidoscopic whirl of colour. It was amazing, confusing, and overwhelming all at once, watching the world speed up around him when he wasn’t even moving, but then slow down once he did move.

It all kind of grated his nerves until he felt the tips of his incisors sharpening in his gums…

But he felt….incredible. Ablaze like livewire, and more rejuvenated than he’s ever felt when he was an actual human, overlooking the gnawing pain clawing at the center of his chest that could only be related to the absence of his mate.

_< ><>><<><> _

_Zayn could do nothing but watch as flames danced in the reflection of Harry’s eyes when he pulls back off of him._

_But the hunter can’t really fight the way his body moves into a sitting position in order to follow the path of Harry’s body, even as everything comes back to him. A hand flying to his healed throat then, while his eyes move to the bloodied fist of Harry’s hand._

_Wait…where was…_

_Zayn’s eyes swiveled around until they spotted Harry’s father a few feet way lain motionless on the floor; head twisted in an angle too odd to survive. Even for a vampire. Just by looking at it Zayn could tell the skull was basically detached from the spine._

_‘You’re confused.’ Harry rasps and Zayn can’t defy the way his body reacts to Harry’s voice._

_‘Confused?’_

_Harry presses his lips in a firm line, ‘no, you’re angry, I understand that.’_

_‘Trust me, Harry, you haven’t got a clue as to what I feel right now.’ Zayn ensures him while flexing his stiff fingers on the concrete beneath him. Hell, he doesn’t even know himself._

_‘Actually, I have a pretty good idea, Zayn.’ Harry says as he rubs at his sternum like he’s burning there same way Zayn was and flinching at the images of Harry in his tree house. In his room that night. He was there._

_Zayn looks away from the tear tracks on Harry’s cheeks, ‘You lied to me.’_

_‘No. I-’_

_‘You did,’ Zayn interrupts before Harry gets far, ‘I asked you that day where you were on that night and you said you didn’t remember.’ Zayn accuses basically growling the last word._

_‘Zayn, I lie about a lot of things, but remembering specific dates isn’t one of them. I really am 174 and despite what you might think I’m not Edward Cullen. Okay? I’m not a mind reader. How the hell was I supposed to know what you were talking about?’_

_Harry had locked up when Zayn asked him that day in the rain, he knew. ‘You knew,’ he scoffs aloud._

_Harry blatantly ignores the way a large square of ceiling clatters down beside him, ‘You have every right to be angry.’_

_What the fuck’s that supposed to do? Was that some type of half assed apology? ‘You think you_ understanding _me makes up for you being involved with what happened to my family?’_

_‘That isn’t— you don’t know everything yet.’ Harry says softly and suddenly Zayn feels the fight inside of Harry drop out through their bond; the defensive demeanor in his shoulders sagging away just as quickly._

_For a second seeing Harry look so defeated was almost worse than watching him cry and plead with his father regardless of how numb Zayn had tried to make himself. He willed his hand not to reach out for Harry._

_‘Look,’ he starts pulling back further from Zayn. ‘This obviously isn’t the ideal place to talk everything out, not that you’d even want to be near me right now…just go outside Zayn. Find Louis and then you’ll understand everything, alright?’_

_Harry moves so that he’s standing to tower over Zayn’s body, a hand waving idly at the smoke clouds that immediately shroud around his head. ‘I truly am sorry.’ He whispers and then he’s gone; his shadow nothing but a mirage in the orange hue of the smoke._

_And the dull ache that invades him is almost instant._

_< ><>><<><> _

 

So there Zayn stands in front of the building, not really minding the heat the flames blow against his back as his fingers rubs numbly at the center of his chest. _God_. It literally takes every ounce of strength in him not to follow after the trail the bond leads towards Harry.

He sighs as his eyes flutters shut.

‘Zayn,’ someone shouts causing the vampire to freeze his movements. The voice was similar yet richer and enhanced with the help of his sharper hearing. He knew that voice.

The tone of it stirs something deep inside of him, unlocking an emotion he was sure he wouldn’t even be able to enunciate: hope. Though it’s only when arms come to fly around his shoulders that he reacts. Both to the welcomed warmth, and the faint presence familiar perfume dancing around his nostrils.  

Zayn hums in approval when the arms tighten around him as the owner calls his name gently once more, he pressing his nose to the pulse thumping erratically against her skin before bringing a hand up to cradle her head, ‘Mary Ann.’

_You’re okay._

‘Yes, it’s Mary Ann you little shit,’ she half laughs half cries into the hair above Zayn’s ear. ‘I swear to God, if you do that again, I’m dousing you in holy water.’

A surprised laugh wiggles its way around the lump in his burning throat just before she pulls back to look in his eyes, palms pressed delicately against his cheeks, ‘I’m sorry.’

The wrinkles around her almond shaped eyes crease in when she scrunches her face up and shakes her head, ‘No. no apologies. Remember?’

Zayn does. It was an agreement they had forged when he had first moved in with her following the loss of his family. He had been attempting to do something nice like surprise her with breakfast in bed when the cereal bowl went tumbling to the floor.

The sound of the ceramic material scattering was _booming_ in the serine quietness early mornings brought, rousing his keeper quicker than he could react. Of course Mary Ann being Mary Ann had disregarded the countless apologies Zayn had offered and pointed out that it was he that was trying to do right by her. She made him promise never to apologize to her again, and he agreed, on the condition that she would do the same.

There’s heat coming off the body knocking his knees together then, and he looks down to see his dog panting excitedly up at him. His yaps, a response to Zayn’s acknowledging hand under his bearded chin, echoing across the expanse of the parking lot.

He notices Tetsuo’s heartbeat then, wet and thick as it sloshes about in the cavern of his chest, and fuck he really doesn’t want to hear it anymore. Blanching, he turns his attention back to his surrogate mother and is seconds away from attempting to tame the tears spilling down Mary Ann’s cheeks after catching onto the rhythm of her hectic heartbeat (not as closely) when he noticed something off.

Her heartbeat sounded strange, it held the same steady _bum-bump_ he’s used to hearing whenever he lays his head on his arm for too long, but it had another layer. Like it was doubled. Zayn brings his hands up to curl over her wrist and pull her hands from his face, feeling the pulse beneath his fingertips beat normally.

His eyes widened as he pulls back to look at her stomach. But then he’s gasping after he places his hand on her stomach and feel it through the dingy cotton of the shirt she had probably been wearing since she had gotten abducted.

_Bum-bump. Bum-bump. Bum-bump._

She’s crying again, this time probably in glee, as her hand joins his for a second. Zayn goes quietly when she tugs him into a hug tighter than the others somehow, ‘yes, Bumpa, we have much to discuss.’ She says; her breath shivering as it puffs visibly in the soft glow of light posts above them. ‘Just not right now.’

No shit.

Apparently Mary Ann’s pregnant. And coatless in the middle of winter.

Realizing he wasn’t in the least bit cold, he basically rips off the jacket he had thrown on hastily earlier and wraps around her quivering frame, before fishing his keys from his—mercifully still intact—pant pocket. ‘We need to get you to the car.’ Not even pausing when he tries to gently nudge her towards his GMC.

‘No, no, I’ll go but just—Zayn.’ she’s whining, and grabbing at his keys. ‘Wait a second.’

They didn’t have a second, ‘Mary Ann.’

‘Zayn.’ a whine beckons uncertainly, and Zayn doesn’t even have to be looking directly at Mary Ann’s pleading face to know that it hadn’t come from her.

‘Holy fuck it _is_ him, lookit Doni,’ the voice urgently whispers.

_I know that voice._

Zayn freezes with a start once he realizes just how much he knows that voice. But then he’s turning his head to look over the curve of Mary Ann’s shoulder and trembling with the way his breath shivers out of him.

Seven sets of eyes stared back at him.

‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ Louis breathes out as just as Tetsuo gives a echoing bark, tail smacking Zayn’s shin harshly before trotting over to butt against Louis’.

Its still, the world around them, as Zayn stares into the eyes of the pretty teenage girl standing up opposed to the way the others were crouched; huddled in a tight cluster next to the curb of the pavement.

‘Zayn.’ she calls and this time he gets to see the word leave her mouth, but he’s too lost in the shape of her eyes, the curve of her chin, the rise in her cheeks. Too stunned to react to the way she starts to step closer, the way her heartbeat increases just so as she does it, the way she nods appreciatively at Mary Ann when she nudges Zayn forward.

He’s there, he knows, can feel actually feel the earth sort of rumble steadily under his feet, but he’s lost, vision blurring as his brain pieces together the face before him with the image of the small girl he had buried so deeply inside the discolored reels of his memory, too ashamed to visit them more often than not.

Too afraid of the pungent taste of disappointment accompanied with the failure of finding closure for them.

However it’s vanished in that moment, the chains wound tightly in a chokehold around his most precious memories as a child, as they explode outward into his brain like a brilliant show of Technicolor fireworks. And there, amongst the horde of smiling faces and hard life lessons learned, was her face. Her small adorably rounded face squinting up at him as she giggled at something.

Eyes crinkling around the edges the same way all of the Malik’s were subjected to. Zayn felt something wet and cold dangle from the tip of his nose, but he’s ignorant to it as the strength in his legs starts to falter strangely.

‘Safaa.’

He blinks away the obstructive fluid in his eyes just in time to witness the way her face crumbles pitifully and then suddenly she’s in his space; slim body slamming into Zayn’s as her arms wrap tightly around his neck as she sobs into it.

Zayn, right there with her, remembers how much she loved Strawberry Shortcake as the scent of the berry fills his nose.

‘You were dead.’ She whispers after Zayn’s brain forces his arms to pull her as close as he could.

 _You_ were dead. 13 years ago he saw, regardless of Mary Ann not wanting him to, the charred bodies, perfectly shaped like those of his lost family members, being lifted out of the front door.

Zayn’s arms tighten instinctively around his sister, ‘You were….’ He starts pulling back to catch her eyes brimming and red at the edges, ‘You’re alive.’ he tries as his fingers curl into the fabric of her oversized shirt, truly taking her in.

She was clean…smelled clean despite the ashen coat of soot on her skin, but she was well put; hair like Veronica’s how it splays over her shoulders and curls at the end. Her legs were clad in loose sweats and tucked into a dingy pair of UGG boots. But she was there, flesh and bone, heartbeat and all.

‘Of course I’m alive you great idiot,’ she jokes, breath visibly misting, but it falls flat with the way she struggles to pull air through her nose.

Zayn moves his eyes back round to see Mary Ann ducking off towards his GMC as instructed, Tetsuo on her heels. He pauses, his brain stomped on whether this was some elaborate hallucination that came with the trauma of dying and coming back to life….or just the tiresome fallout that was his everyday life in general. ‘I don’t understand. How did— how are you even…?’

Another body slams into him then, taller and slimmer, snug against the open side that wasn’t holding onto Safaa like she was a lifeline. The only thing keeping him sane. Zayn looks down to spot a mass of jet black hair tucked into crevice of his chest.

Zayn shudders, eyes swinging over to Safaa’s only to see her grinning through the wetness causing her eyes to shine. She’s reaching out to pet at the other girl’s head, just as she speaks for the first time. ‘You are real.’ The vampire bends down in effort to see her face only to have her pull in closer to him. ‘And suuuper warm. Bonus.’

He doesn’t try to fight the way his chin wobbles, ‘Waliyah,’ he chuckles in disbelief, arm coming to wound around her small shivering frame.

‘Yeah,’ she answers; her own voice unsteady and high as she pulls closer to Zayn, ‘Just don’t move, alright? I’ve missed you and all, but I freezing my nips off right now.’

Logical reasoning, believable even, had his sweater not been rapidly dampening above his ribs. But he’s so overwhelmed with confusion and uncharacterized happiness that he barely notices that he crying anymore. He just rubs the palm of his hand over his sisters’ goose pimpled skin as best he could.

A hand lands on his shoulder just as he looses himself with the line of his overactive brain pattern, ‘it doesn’t matter how, just know that we are, alright?’

Zayn finds himself looking up into the eyes almost identical to his own right then and matched them to the nagging voice that could only come with an older sibling. Specifically a sister: Doniya.

‘You’ve done it, you tosser,’ she sniffles after pulling him in for a hug, girls attached and all, ‘you actually found us. Just like dad said you would.’

Zayn is trying not to shake apart with the tendrils of heat that lingers on his cheeks after Doniya’s fingers trail across them, a happy smile on her tear stained lips. ‘D-dad?’

His honey coloured orbs swiveled forward, and even though the snow flurry had simmered to a drift, he found himself squinting at the sight before him. Over Doniya’s wind blown hair, the image of his mother’s tear streaked face met him, her legs slowly but steadily carrying her closer to her children. His father’s face, unreadable but placid, just as Zayn remembered as he stood next to Louis.

Suddenly the words ringing in his head are loud and clear.

_You don’t know everything yet._

Harry…

His eyes are too blurry to actually see the face inches from his but he can tell, just by the gentle touch on his face, just how familiar it is even though it’s hesitant and he’s been without it for over a decade, that it’s a motherly one. At the trill pounding in her heart, the puffs of her breath hitting his face, he decides against all theories of illusions and lets himself fall into the ditch he had been avoiding for far too long.

‘Mum.’ He chokes out when the women chuckle snot filled snorts of happiness, and let their mother move in to wrap him into an embrace nothing had come close to tonight.

The skin of his nose warm against her ear, ‘Oh, my boy.’ She says in a breath riddled with love, strain, and tears. Behind them, the neon coloured ‘P’ in _Yaser Corporations_ groans as it tilts off its platform and clutters to the ground causing the huddle of arms around his body to dismantle with a start.

He misses the warmth straight away, craves to have it back, even more so because once he casts his eyes on the inferno continuing to burn inside of the building; it’s like a wakeup call. A clarity that had been lost in the surge of emotions that had washed him speechless.

Suddenly he comprehends just how loud everything is. The wind whistling softly as it rides on the curves of Zayn’s ears, the lamp posts buzzing ahead of them, the groan Louis’ building gives as what sounds like floors collapses onto lower ones, pounding heartbeats, rushing blood, crackling fire, and fuck, the sound of Tetsuo having a bark-off with a neighbourhood dog.

It was all _so_ loud.

Too close and far way at once. His chest was starting to burn…Harry….he needed….

A large hand lands on is shoulder, effectively pulling Zayn out from a bonafide panic attack. Just with the weight of the hand there, the anchor of it makes everything withdraw abruptly before trickling in slowly so that Zayn takes in one thing after the other instead of all at once. He isn’t surprised when he it’s his father’s warm eyes that meets his.

‘That’s enough Zayn,’ he soothes before using hand to cup the back his son’s head and pulling Zayn to rest his forehead on the bulk of his shoulder. ‘You’ve done wonderfully son.’

Zayn doesn’t want to but he sort of splits in half as soon as his nose bumps his father’s collarbone, and the noise that accomplices it is enough to leave him shaken, fearful like a little boy convinced there’s a monster hiding under his bed at night.

He’s never made that sound before.

‘We have to leave.’ Yaser whispers thickly, but Zayn’s fingers only tighten in the thin cotton of his shirt, eyes stinging as the rest of his family crowd in closer as well. ‘Zayn.’

He’s shaking his head before his brain is even contemplating what is being said to him, when his father pulls back gives him a gentle shake. ‘We can’t stay here.’

‘I—’ don’t know what…huh? Zayn blinks away the tears in his eyes and realizes that they really weren’t alone. Foreign Alchemists, the lot of them, was there for some reason, billowing out of a dark van with tinted windows. He could hear the sounds of sirens approaching in the distance.

‘Zayn,’ his father calls with another shake, successfully bringing the vampire’s attention back onto him. ‘I know you got a lot to process, but you understand that we can’t have your sisters and mother out here in this weather, yeah? We need to get them someplace safe and warm, preferably somewhere not churning with flames.’

Oh…. right.

He’s nodding and then reaching into the pocket of his pants to fish out his wallet, ‘here.’ he sniffs and pushes it at his father, ‘everything you need is in there. Money, credit cards… buy whatever you want.’

Zayn hears the hum of his car engine and wipes his nose on his sleeve, ‘You could go to a hotel if you want, but uhm, Mary Ann… she’s got my car and she’s k-kind of pregnant so I don’t feel comfortable with her being alone, yeah? Could you stay with her at her place?’

Yaser gave him a look under a raised brow.

‘It’s completely safe, dad.’ He assures, ‘whoever ransacked it to abduct Mary Ann won’t come around there anymore. I’ve had V.E.C. agents keep an eye on it ever since she disappeared. Trust me.’

Yaser’s face pulled tight, and for a moment it looked as if he were going to burst into tears or smiles until his face froze. Maybe both. But it’s when the sound of teeth chattering got loud enough for his father to hear when he kicks into action, nodding, eyes wet with reapplied tears, and then moving past Zayn.

The vampire instantly feels the weight of something drop of his shoulders causing them to sag lazily.

‘You’re not coming?’ the query arrives after Zayn hears his footsteps stop.

Zayn shakes his head, heavy hands sliding down form his forehead to dig into his sore eye sockets, ‘I’ll meet you wherever you decide to go.’ He signifies since Yaser hadn’t exactly agreed to stay at Mary Ann’s. ‘I’ll find you.’

After a second, the footfalls start up again before he hears his father hushidly mumble something to the girls, voice only rising a bit when there are obvious noises of protest.

‘We JUST got him back and you’re allowing him to run off?’ ….definitely Doniya.

‘He’s not a dog, Doni. I can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want.’

‘So you’re letting him leave, then?’

‘He needs a moment alone, as a man, trust my instincts.’

‘Sweetheart, I respect anyone’s privacy as much as I do my own, but it’s been _thirteen_ years.’ His mother pushes, voice cracking with it. ‘Thirteen years of anticipating the moment that power hungry maniac would come into that godforsaken chamber and tell me my son has been murdered. He’s just come back to life Yaser and, I just, I don’t want to lose him again. What if he doesn’t come back? What if something happ—’

Zayn pulls his attention away from the conversation to turn it onto the older vampire a few feet ahead of him. He only notices that Thomas is there, stomach pressed heavily into the wet concrete of the parking lot, when an alchemist bends down to prod at his face after hissing at Louis to remove his foot from the nape of Thomas’s neck.

From the smell of him, Zayn could tell he wasn’t human anymore. As Thomas disregards the Alchemist working on him, heartbeat increasing with every step Zayn took towards them. Zayn ignores the way a tranquil look of euphoric happiness comes upon his blood splattered face, like seeing Zayn made being pressed down in the icy slush of watered down snow worth it.

‘Well, well, baby Malik,’ Louis starts, tone light, despite a rather large and painful looking gash that had yet to heal on his forehead. ‘You’ve actually managed to get prettier. I didn’t think it was possible.’

He stops within arm’s-reach of Louis and nods towards Thomas on the ground, ‘what’s he doing here?’

‘Harry’s father used him as a pawn in the game he’d been playing with both your lives.’ Louis’ tone is _still_ chipper as he digs his shoe a little deeper into Thomas’s back causing him to grunt. ‘So…basically he hired him to fuck with you.’

Zayn watches as the other vampire squirms under Louis’ foot, grimacing when the Alchemist’s hand accidently brushes over his blood stained neck before looking up into Zayn’s eyes with the same sincerity that had fooled Zayn into everything involving Thomas. He swallows the bitterness on his tongue, ‘why is he—’

‘Still alive, yeah.’ Louis fills in shifting on his feet a bit, ‘Believe me, if it were up to me, I would’ve let your dog continue to maul him to death,’ pointedly ignoring the affronted sound Thomas makes, ‘but Hazza told me not to.’

Zayn pauses long enough to hear a group of Alchemists talking to his family, but then Louis’s bending down and shouting obnoxiously loud into Thomas’s face, ‘you hear that, you little tit. The only reason I’m not crushing your trachea to smithereens is because my boy deemed you useful, for whatever reason.’

Hazza… ‘Harry?’

Does that mean….

Louis halts the grumbling he’s doing at no one in particular to give Zayn a look like he was about to run away. ‘Yeah, um, he told me to keep the fucker alive, but didn’t tell me why. Usually, I’m rightfully weary of his haunches, but his reasoning has been dead on in the past. I’ve got to start trusting him more.’ He rambles, shoulders lifting every second, ‘I mean look at you. A proper example. I was certain, with that tear in your neck, you weren’t going to make and yet he succeeded. Again.’

Suddenly Zayn can hear him, his mate’s voice in his ear, as if he were standing right next to him.

 

_….You can’t leave me…_

_…._

_.._

_…Come back to me…._

_…_

_…Please…_

_.._

_….Don’t do this to your family…._

_…_

_.._

_…You don’t know everything yet…_

‘Zayn!’ a recognizable voice calls, breaking up the darkness of his memory and leaving behind the ache renewed in his sternum.

He spins to see Erik shutting the door to his SUV before jogging over, ‘Thank fuck, I thought I was here alone.’ Erik turns, head sort of reeling back when he spots Louis standing there quietly.

‘Why are you here?’ Zayn curses inwardly when his voice cracks.

‘Haz called,’ he stutters, tearing his gaze from a now smiling Louis. ‘Told me to notify the Board before coming to retrieve Pfaff…..who really is a vamp now, wow.’ He trails off, eyes growing as they watch the last of Thomas’s lacerations seal close on his pale throat.

Because he can’t help but ask, ‘and where is he now?’

Erik looks up and gives him a— _‘Why? Are you trying to kill him?’_ —stare before speaking, ‘he said something about going off to find Liam since he ditched him yesterday…’ and then he’s grabbing Zayn by the face, gently twisting this way and that. ‘Why are you suddenly prettier?’ his fingers cold and slippery against Zayn’s hot skin.

He must finally comprehend the temperature and feel the quick pitter patter of Zayn’s pulse because he freezes and doesn’t even try to tease Zayn when he bats his hands away gently.

For a long moment breath doesn’t seem to enter Erik’s lungs, its lengthy enough that even Louis starts to look concerned, but then he’s blowing out a giant breath, eyebrows rising along with his lips. ‘Nevermind, that’s a…tale for another time. Are you quite finished, girly?’

He’s looking down at the Alchemist still crouched near the side of Thomas’ head. She stands wordlessly and puts her equipment into the clutch strapped over her shoulder, ‘you may take him.’

‘Alright, chappy,’ Erik moves over Thomas, none too gently yanking his arms behind his back, ‘only because I’m sympathetic to the brain dead, I’ll warn you.’ He pulls out a pair of shiny—expensive looking—handcuffs. ‘I’m going to cuff you now, but don’t struggle, alright.’

He places them tightly on Thomas’s wrist, ‘at the mere thought, brain patterns trigger the cuffs to release a substance into your wrists. I’ve witnessed the screams, pal, and let me tell you. I don’t wish to hear it while I’m escorting you back, yeah.’

Erik nods at Louis, who lifts his foot off of Thomas’ back, and then pulls him up with a grunt. ‘Courtesy of Niall,’ Erik says finally looking up at Zayn again, ‘he lined the inside of the cuffs with a tube of dead blood. It’ll release it through the embedded injection needles if a vamp tries to escape. Brilliant, that.’

‘Sounds harsh,’ Louis speaks up, but doesn’t sound the least bit bothered. ‘Do me a favor Tommy and try to run away.’

Erik doesn’t even hesitate, sticking one hand out towards Louis with comical lightening speed, ‘Erik Henrick.’

Louis grasps the outstretched hand in a firm shake, ‘Louis Tomlinson.’

Erik immediately turns his head to Zayn, who already knows what he’s about to ask. ‘Louis?’

As in Harry’s Louis?

Zayn nods, ‘Louis.’

‘Oh, then, nice to meet you Louis.’ Then he’s swiveling around, neck craning, as his movement causes Thomas’s pliant form to follow. ‘Harry mentioned that the vampire ‘King’ would be here, but—’

Louis jabs a thumb over his shoulder until Erik’s gaze takes in the burning building behind them, ‘inside.’

Silence

‘That means he’s—’

‘Dead yeah,’ Lou finishes with an amused expression.

Suddenly Zayn feels a bout of bile rise as the image of his broken neck flickers across his memory.

He turns to see his partner looking satisfied, ‘that’s good news,’ Erik jostles Thomas then, pulling him along, ‘pleasure meeting you Louis, see you back at the offices, Zayn.’

‘Alright,’ Zayn mumbles.

‘Yada yada yada…Thomas Sheldon-Avery Pfaff, you have the right to shut the fuck up and keep it that way until you’re told to do otherwise.’ Erik says, clearly enjoying this way too much as he pulls the back door open, ‘oh, Niall is going to love this.’ he chuckles, ‘he hated you when you were human, but now?’ he whistles ‘… and you go straight to him.’

Zayn rolls his eyes and moves his gaze to Louis who is thoroughly basking in Erik’s teasing, but when he meets Zayn’s eyes again he’s hesitant once more.

‘Louis. Did Harry…Is he—’

‘Yaser!’ Louis calls out, interrupting Zayn so he could get the attention of the now blanket covered family members before they headed off towards Mary Ann. ‘Wait.’

He holds up finger at Zayn’s father before pinning Zayn with a stare, ‘No, he didn’t kill him. Too busy crying over you to even think to do so. I did, so, no he doesn’t fall into that title if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘Furthermore,’ he sighs out, ‘it’s not a good idea for you to be away from your family right now. You don’t have Harry here, who’s just bonded with you mere hours ago and turned you in the last fifteen minutes. There’s no helping the outcome when it came to how the situation looked in your point of view, but there’s never a time you would’ve needed him more. So…you need to leave with Yaser; someone who knows vampire anatomy better than someone as old as yours truly. Otherwise you might go mad. Like literally bat-shit with everything you’re going eventually be feeling. And that’s just from being separated from your newly bonded mate. I heard it’s a bitch.’

Zayn absently rubs at the center of his chest burning with renewal, but his brain is stuck on the small detail he shouldn’t have noticed, ‘you’re saying you’ve never had a mate? After all this time? I would have thought—’

‘You would’ve thought wrong,’ Louis chuckles. ‘Look, just go with your father, kid. He’s obviously dying to reconnect with you so desperately that I think he’s seething over the fact that you’re here talking to me instead of him. Let him give you a run down on everything about your life and I guarantee you’ll feel loads better.’

Zayn hesitates, not sure what to feel right then other than drained. He lifts his head to look over at his family giving him this look of hopefulness and…he just…he needed….

‘Honestly, if you’ve sent them off so you could stand here and sulk about my building with me, that’s very gracious of you.’ He says just as the fire brigade shows up finally….how fucking far away were they? ‘But give this some time to settle then we can have a little chat. Only if you still want to.’

Zayn’s already shaking his head feverish like.

Truthfully he’s convinced himself enough to know that he’d stayed out here so long in hopes of maybe getting a glimpse of his mate again, but that’s passed. Now he’s desperate to feel close to him again, his very bones weeping at Harry’s absence, and if Louis was the only way…so be it.

‘Yeah, I’d like that.’

Louis looks at him as if he could tell exactly why Zayn had agreed so fast. Like Zayn’s thoughts were literally written on the lines of his forehead, ‘Ugh, you two deserve each other. Go on.’ He says shooing him towards the direction of his car.

And Zayn goes, because he’s decided in that moment that listening, accepting knowledge from someone isn’t so bad…especially if they mean well.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

As it turned out his father had already agreed to go back to Mary Ann’s. The ride there was quiet and…snug. With eight bodies to fit, Zayn found himself pulling up the seats in the back he normally used for the trunk. His father riding shot gun, Zayn squished in between Safaa and Waliyah in the first row, while his mother kept a calming hand going over Tetsuo’s head as she snuggled Doniya in the third row.

It’s was easier this way, he decided, listening to the hum of the engine and the subtle pounding of his family’s heartbeats rather than taking in all of the random noises of the universe at once which, he could only guess, would make him want to tear his eardrums out.

Discounting Tetsuo’s heavy pants, Zayn slumped a bit further into the seat and tried to match his own breathing with everyone around him. Sighing when Waliyah lifts his arm and buries her head in the side of his neck and Safaa, not far off, curves into his side; fingers fisted in the front of his shirt.

It took a moment for his brain to register that he wasn’t…blood thirsty. His throat tingled just the slightest, but it wasn’t to the point where a blood rampage would suit him. In fact, over the natural odors of their bodies, their blood smelled exactly how he remembered as a human, what with having it stuck to his body after a particularly nasty battle on the field.

Even though his sense of smell wasn’t as keen back then Zayn could only imagine that he had walked around smelling like boiled pennies and rusted copper. He confirmed it after taking another lungful of air through his nose…yep. Entirely unappealing. Cringe worthy.

Burying his nose in Safaa’s hair, he found his mind drifting off to the thing he craved for the most. It had green eyes, chocolate curls, a ridiculously long torso, and stupidly longer graceful legs. Zayn felt his lips curl up as he got flashbacks of just how clumsy Harry used to be when he was human compared to the polished stealth he held now.

He found his mouth watering on its own accord at the thought of what Harry’s blood smelled like, what it tasted of since he was too out of it the last time he actually spoke to him. He wondered if it tasted anything like the flavour of Harry’s lips. Or if it held the same essence his skin presented whenever Zayn let his tongue roam over it. Maybe it would be just as exquisite as the tang his tastebuds danced for whenever Harry came down his throat….and…

 _Oh_ ….

He should stop.

Zayn focused on the hushed swish the tires made against the freeway, willing his body temperature to drop back down to a level normal for what he was. At one point he felt dainty fingers push through the back of his longer hair, and completely relaxed with the touch; eyes closing and head nudging back into his mother’s hand.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

The Zayn sandwich managed to persist despite the fact that they had to get out of the car once they arrived, the girls tugging closer still when the chilled early morning air hit them once more. However, he ended up detaching when it came to actually shaking the hands of the V.E.C. agents that house sat for him.

Poor lads teeth were chattering as they stood guard on the porch of Mary Ann’s house. After guiding everyone into the door and grabbing the spare key from a slot in the bottom of his _crafty_ birdhouse, Zayn hears the breath whoosh out Mary Ann’s lungs once the click of the hallway light sounds, followed by a sharp bark before Tetsuo’s trotting off to settle into a dog-bed Zayn had specifically requested the hired housekeep to buy.

As the other’s walk off a little further into the new territory, Zayn shuts the door and looks on as Mary Ann takes in everything around her. Her heart pounding a little harder at the sight everything tidily put back together, or replaced, most likely since the last time she saw her house it had looked like the victim of a hurricane fart.

Zayn reached for his keys balled tightly in her pale fist and replaced them with the spare. Her brown orbs slid down to his hand placed over hers then up to his, ‘The housekeep couldn’t find your keys anywhere so…I assumed you needed a new one.’

Her eyes are crinkling as she shakes her head, ‘of curse you did this.’

‘When have I ever truly cleaned Mary Ann?’ he returns as footsteps creak on the wooden floors in the living room, ‘had this one made ages ago…. I invited them back….that’s alright with you, yeah?’

She places her hands on his shoulder with a tsk, ‘I thought I had learned you better about asking stupid questions, Bumpa. They can stay as long as they wish.’ She promises, ‘this house was always too large for one woman anyhow.’

_Bum-bump. Bum- bump. Bum-bump._

He doesn’t realize he’s staring at her stomach until her voice startles him out of it, ‘my first love.’ she says as her hands creep up to her stomach, ‘Gregory Manton. I’ve known him for half my life, Zayn. He’s a good man.’

One he’ll have to meet, he finds himself thinking, but her tone of counsel was clear as she looked him over. So he shrugs, ‘okay.’

‘I wanted to tell you in person but you’ve been busy…really busy. Well that and the fact that two random, sketchy looking men followed me around before trashing my house, clubbing me on the head and kidnappin’ me.’

He could feel his face pinching up a little but she’s already there, ‘this was planned Zayn. I’ve been seeing my personal physician about it and she said I’m perfectly fit to nurture a child. Which I have.’

Instead of voicing meager thoughts on age and fitness he shakes his head in mild disbelief since it wore off a bit, ‘well that’s incredible news. Congratulations, Mary Ann.’

‘Yeah,’ she says while her hands rub in a soothing motion, ‘and now that you got Trisha back it’s happened at the right time, right? Losing one child and gaining another and all. You’ll always be my sweet little Bumpa, no matter what.’

Zayn’s face had slowly been crumpling, his mask of comfort slipping of bit by bit, but now it changed into one of horror. What the hell was she on about?

A small voice is the only thing that rips his eyes from the tears forming in Mary Ann’s. He turns to find Waliyah standing near the front-room’s threshold, arms folded over her chest, ‘Zayn?’

But Mary Ann’s nodding at his sister before he can even respond, ‘Come on, Zed,’ she smiles and places a hand on his back to push him forward, ‘let’s go to the couches. We’ve all got a long morning ahead of us.’

He goes, his arm moving to accommodate Waliyah’s when she wraps it round his waist, but he can’t help but bitterly think that the word _adjusting_ was a better fit for what Mary Ann said.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

They ended up moving the wooden coffee table up against the wall, and having Mary Ann go fetch a couple of comforters so that the siblings could make a palad on the floor, the same way they used to whenever their parents put on a film for them since it was one of the only ways to rid the house of chaos.

It should have felt silly but, Zayn in particular was far too exhausted to care. The sound of Tetsuo lapping up water in the kitchen was right against his ear, but manageable as he partially caught onto portions of the conversation above him on the couch. While his sisters slowly drifted off beside him he learned how Mary Ann was about 3 months pregnant, how his mother actually knew this Gregory Manton bloke, and how little he actually knew about his parents.

Safaa cuddled closer, stuck in the realm between being asleep and awake, probably stressed with the uncomfortable feeling that came with staying someplace you arent used to. It took a while, but once her breathing evened out, the sound of his parents chatter above him started to fade, he dozed into a peaceful slumber he only achieved when lying next to Harry.

 

**< ><>><<><> **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kay to tell you the truth i cant describe how sorry i am for taking so darn long but i hope i can get off easy by saying that i worked really hard and wanted it to be perfect for you guys. i didnt stop writing and editing until i was satisfied. And i can say that i’m proud of the product. Its completely finished and ready to update. This chapter (orginally supposed to be the final real chapter before the epilouge) came up to 12k words so i split it. the other half will be up later this week if not tomorrow so dont worry.
> 
> Soorrry for making you guys wait for so long! Forgive me??? Hugs and updates for compensation.


	19. Chapter 19

**Part II**

**< ><>><<><> **

The next time he opens his eyes, the room was bright with sunlight. He quickly notices Safaa still drooled, Waliyah still snored, and Christ Doniya _definitely_ still kicked.

He sat up quietly noticing his mother lain out on the cushion of the couch she had been sharing with Mary Ann; her hand stretched out towards her children. Mary Ann….was in her bedroom, he could hear. But his father was no where in sight.

Zayn rose to his feet, careful not to step on limbs and over Tetsuo’s tail, when he heads upstairs to freshen up. After a five minute shower, he’d scrubbed himself rid of the smell of gasoline and charcoal (hidden under the fragrance his skin secreted), changes into a fresh set of clothes he kept in his room here.

He had considered brushing his teeth, but when he swiped his tongue over them and swallowed his breath didn’t taste or smell foul.

The taste of it was almost sweet. Tangy.

Using everything he was taught as a V.E.C. agent, he crept down the stairs and past the living room with covertness amplified with his inhuman abilities. As soon as the outside air brushed over him, he got a whiff of dirty snow along with the flattened grass beneath it.

The thick cotton of his winter jacket was virtually unneeded since the soft gust of wind that sends the lapels rustling around his neck, felt phenomenal against his skin. He sat on the porch-swing, fingers interlocked and he’s so focused on the rap of his own heartbeat that his misses the one right next to him.

‘How are you?’ his father asks, causing Zayn to push off his knees and turn to see Yaser sat comfortably in the spot that had been empty moments before.

_Guess that’s where I originally got it from._

‘If you’re asking do I want to tear into someone’s throat, no I don’t. I’m fine.’ His eyes travel over his father’s winter kit, ‘and you?’

His father stutters for the right words until he sighs, ‘as cliché as it sounds, Zayn, I’ve never been better.’

‘You’re right. That is cliché.’

It earns him the chuckle his father only really used whenever he was around his closest friends. Like Louis.

The atmosphere around them shifts to something easy, filled with bird chirps and echoing dog barks.

‘I wanted to send for you.’ He says suddenly causing Zayn to solidify.

Zayn hesitates for good measure, watching as a string of cars pass on the street ‘….why didn’t you?’

‘Because,’ Yaser twists a bit so that he’s facing Zayn, ‘while the King had no clue that you were his son’s mate, it was a great opportunity. You deserved a life, son.’

Hushed stillness ensues for a moment, ‘you have to understand, dad. I don’t know what you been through all this time, or if I’m honest I don’t even know who you truly are. You may think you know me, but believe me, you don’t have the faintest idea as to what I deserved.’

‘Well, as your father who has lived through being the prisoner of a psychotic sociopath, I know for a fact that my children had no right being dragged into my short comings. I’d have given anything for your sisters not have to have been there, but I’m glad it was you who was spared. You were always stronger than the lot of us Malik’s. Not only did you get a chance to live freely, you had a reason to live. A goal to strive for with solving our case. But you’ve also gotten a glimpse of how different vampires are.’

Zayn turns fully to see his father nodding with a knowing look.

‘Vampires don’t bond with someone unless it’s a compatible match. Unless the mate will readily accept them no matter what. You’ve bonded with a vampire, one who has and continues to save your life, one you’ve actually spent time with so you can tell. Not every vampire is like the ones that you hunt. There are others out there like Louis…and your mate. My perception of that analysis alone is what eventually made us a target of suspicion, but at least now you see. There’s no need to hate them all.’

Though he did at one point, that thought was already present in his mind. Zayn knows from all the time he’s spent hunting down the vampires who don’t follow the code of silence the V.E.C. had enforced, that some vampires more than less are vicious.

Some are either clueless or the victims of a forced transformation. Back then it was easy to overlook the fact that they were all once human.

But now that he knows that his family wasn’t indeed dead at the hands of one of them, good or bad, he had no real animosity towards them anymore. If he’s honest, it all kind of died the moment he saw Harry’s face on Liam’s computer screen.

‘I don’t,’ he cant. Not only is he one of them now, but he’s in love with one. Stuck with them for the rest of his life.

‘Yeah, I see that,’ his father responds with an indulgent tone, ‘you’re off to Louis are you not?’

He wasn’t going to right away, but when he doesn’t respond Yaser offers a small smile, ‘I’ve lost many years with you Zayn. If you’re willing, I would like to find an actual connection with you once more. Maybe then you’ll be able to talk to me the way you do Louis.’

Zayn actually laughs then, loud and carefree, as he stands to his feet, ‘dad, trust me, whatever relationship you think I currently have with Louis isn’t. His side to this story among others is just something I need to hear.’

Not entirely the truth but it seemed to enough for his father who nodded solemnly. Zayn would have thought the way his body was starting tremble with anticipation was clear to his father’s human eyesight as he had to will his legs not to burn the rubber soles of his shoes in haste to get some proximity near anything Harry.

His phone chirps in his pocket and when he fetches out, he see it’s a text from Louis himself.

| Canada Square.

He sighs, ‘I need to see my mate as well,’ he adds before walking to the porch steps, ‘and don’t worry about it dad. I know we aren’t going to just fall back into the routine we had 13 years ago, but we’ll be alright. I promise.’

He doesn’t get to see the face that assists the way his father’s breath stutters because he violates about 10 V.E.C. rules by testing out _just_ how fast he can get to the docks of West India Quay.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

_So_ that’s _what being a superhero feels like._

Zayn had been so caught up in everything, the brisk air racing along the abnormal heat his skin, as he dashed down streets both main and minor, a blur or perhaps an illusion to a human pair of eyes.

He hadn’t even got to mentally time himself once he reached the familiar greenery of Canada Square Park. In fact it was all forgotten because his sternum was starting to sear, heart pumping with the mere realization of how close he was to the headquarters.

Harry was there….had to be with how much it was starting to hurt.

But it was sort of a comfort, the pain in his chest, because it distracted him from the sounds that are clearer now that air isn’t whooshing in his ears. The sounds of an average business day, the animals going around doing what they do best, and just the sounds that the human body makes in general.

He walks, ignoring the staring the same way he’s always done. Ignoring how their blood rushes whenever he comes within arms reach of them while passing by. Ignoring the wet thumps of their increased heartbeats. The scent of their arousal that promptly turns his stomach.

Its nothing new, just more noticeable, probably amplified since his genes weren’t designed for him to look like a regular human anymore. They were mutated to entice. Enthrall.

A dangerous weapon used to ease prey into submission.

Lowering his eyes, Zayn continued wander around, not sure if he should text Louis or wait for him to pop up. But damn, his legs seemed to have a mind of their own. He found himself following the bond’s trail in his chest, walking as it burned a little hotter with every step until—

‘Zayn?’

He stops…Is he hearing right?

‘Zayn, is that you?’

Zayn turns his neck slowly to glance over his shoulder to see the face that had matched the voice he knew all too well, ‘Pez.’

She blinks, blonde hair tucked under wool hat; shoulder keeping the glass door she stood in open. Her widened blue eyed stare gets so intense, that he finds himself looking elsewhere after he turns around to face her. She doesn’t even seem to mind as people pass through the door she’s still holding open like a proper doorman.

He’s grasping at straws on what to say to her as he eyes the bold ‘ **CANTEEN** ’ above the doors, when she decides to channel a sailor.

‘Oh, that’s bullshit. Absurdly fucking rich!’ she yells, causing people inside of the eatery to shoot her looks ranging from curious to downright nasty.

Zayn’s feet itched with the urge to run, ‘sorry?’

Perrie rolls her eyes and steps forward casually, ‘of course _you_ would be the one to actually look like £1,000,000 after a breakup. Sorely jealous.’

The vampire chuckles and looks down at the grey tiles beneath his shoes, ‘It’s good to see you too, Perrie.’ It was the truth. As much as he’s found himself caught up in as of late, he missed having her around. The comfort only a best-friend could give. ‘How are you?’

‘The same mostly. I’ve been better, but after taking a couple days off for me. I’m…good. You look gorgeous. I assume you’re well too.’

That’s an understatement, ‘yeah. I don’t think I’ve been this happy since childhood,’ he cuts off when there’s a brief flash of pain on her face, ‘but I honestly miss you Pezza.’

Then its her that has to look away, her eyes getting a little runny. ‘Yeah,’ she sniffs; voice thick. ‘’Course you miss me, dummy.’

He nods as she wipes the corner of her eyes on her sleeve, ‘there are wonderful things happening in my life, and I want you to be apart of it. When we broke it off I never meant to lose you completely. I never wanted to be alienated….did you?’

Her glove clad finger rubs unconsciously at her nose ring as she shakes her head.

‘I need my best friend back, alright?’

‘What? Tetsuo finally bit the dust?’

He almost snorts, but he’s going for sentimental somberness here, ‘Perrie.’

‘Fine! I’ll say it,’ she laughs, ‘you’ve never lost me.’

Building apprehension fades and he pushes out a breathy laugh to match hers, but then he senses the presence of another vampire. Hears the quick pitter patter before he hears the voice, ‘Zayn.’

He turns to find Louis standing at the end of the block. He nods at him and turns back to his ex, ‘I’ve got a meeting.’

‘Okay. Shouldn’t have been out here this long anyway knowing I’m prone to colds.’

Zayn’s crab walking as he looks back at her, ‘I’m serious Pez, if I don’t hear from you soon I’ll hunt you down.’

‘I’ll text you, you stalker now go.’ She shoos with reassuring smile before turning to walk the other way.

Louis waits silently as Zayn walks over to him, ‘you recognize this area, yes?’

Zayn snorts, ‘Louis, I’ve lived and worked here for the better part of my life.’

Louis simply shrugs in his impassive way, ‘so you recognize it’ll take just over a minute for us to reach V.E.C. Headquarters then. I could only assume you know your mate is there and that you’re more here to see him than me.’

The hunter isn’t sure of what to say so he just follows after him when Lou starts to walk, ‘there’s much touch on so I’ll start with what you want to know. Centuries back, I was young. As in, I was wilder more naïve than wise. Back then, in the vampire community I was considered a reasonable candidate for the highest form of aristocracy. I fed off of that, naturally. Got drunk off the attention, high off the women and bloodlust. I never really saw it as a double edged sword, Y’know?’

Zayn nods even though Louis isn’t looking at him.

‘one night in general, I had gotten so high off of endorphins, that I hadn’t even noticed the lot of vampires crowding around me until they dragged me outside and proceeded to try and end my life.’ He breathes as they cross the intersection.

‘That’s when another vampire stepped in. A newborn seemingly bred for killing. He slaughtered them, in a way I couldn’t have had I been sober, all by himself. So ruthless and diligent that it had literally shocked me sober enough to hear him chastise me about traveling alone. Said company was something a vampire should always keep.’

It didn’t take long for Zayn to comprehend that Louis was speaking of Harry’s father. He turns his head to give him his full attention, instead of focusing on how the cells in his body were literally having a sugar rush with every footfall. ‘That a fact?’

He hums, ‘more of a rule he seemed to follow and enforce amongst his slaves.’ The dim in his blue eyes faded as he looked over to Zayn finally, ‘I hadn’t known how to repay him so he suggested that I should give where I had unknowingly taken. A life for a life. I swore to have his back the same way he had mine that night, but for the rest of my own.’

Again with the double edged sword.

‘It was a deal that he let be for a while. Not long after that I had found Harry and Veronica and recruited them the same way my maker had done me. Just out of reach of death. They became my children, my friends, and my partners when the time actually arrived for me to uphold my end of the bargain. I had no idea he was Harry’s father back then. Haz never said a word about him or anything remotely involving his family.’

Just me huh? ‘You piss him off well enough and he will.’

Lou’s laugh is rich as the skyscraper of One Canada Square appeared to get taller by the second, ‘I assume you know that Harry’s the reason I couldn’t attend your family’s ‘funeral’. Because he met you that night. He really was unwell. Just torn up by the distance, always agitated. Always oozing blood whenever anyone would leave him alone with his thoughts for a minute. That’s why I didn’t; I don’t understand how he went through with partially bonding with you instead of taking the easy way out. He always went on about wanting you, but having the urge to tear your throat out at the same time. So he stayed away. For as long as he could anyway.’

They stop a few yards away from the glass doors of the entrance and Louis pins him with a sharp stare. ‘I’ve known you for a while. I adore your family. Now I don’t know what you’re planning on doing to Hazza since your probably still a little bitter about things, but I cant have you hurting him. I cant have him suffering even more than he has for the past decade and a half. You have to understand that as he sat there with that same kicked puppy look you’ve got on and told me all the shit his father put his family though, I couldn’t bare seeing him that way. I’ll have to ask you to speak now if harm is what you offer him.’

Zayn was already shaking his head, ‘that’s not what I’m here for. I promise.’

‘I have your word.’

Zayn smiles as the memory of Louis saying ‘A man always keeps his word.’ rang clear in the present, ‘always.’

Lou looks like he wants to shake on it when he jerks his chin up and smiles brilliantly over at Zayn, ‘let’s get out of the cold then, I’m sure I heard of couple of these people curse at us for stopping here.’ he says as they fall in with the others entering the building.

‘By the way, you really shouldn’t wear thin jackets like that during winter. It comes off weird. Get in where you fit in.’ he says gesturing to his own black bubble coat and beanie.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

By the time they reach Liam’s floor, half the building had blatantly gawked at them both. It was better to endure it knowing that Louis was getting it just as bad as he was, if not more.

When they exited the elevator the first thing that he heard was Niall mid cackle over the busy noises of the office. Back up here again, then?

He multitasks, nodding to the familiar faces of V.E.C. office agents (even the ones who looked too stunned to do anything other than stare), while doing his damndest to look as chill as he wanted to feel.

His brain picked out voices, specifically Erik’s, Liam’s, and Niall’s in the near distance but Zayn can feel him. Even though he wasn’t talking with the others he knew Harry was right in Liam’s office along with the rest of them.

Maybe he was walking a little too fast, but it was hard to care because his chest was doing the same thing it had done when he found Harry in Louis’ building. He’s sure his body would rip apart if he denied himself Harry’s touch.

So obviously he’s the first to enter the office space. Liam and Harry, both sat on the edge of Liam’s desk, eyes shoot to him as soon as he does.

‘You alright, Zayn?’ Liam asks causing Niall and Erik to turn to him.

He probably looks like he wants to pass out but he nods, eyes baldly shifting over to catch onto the nestle of curls bunching over his mate’s shoulder, before gradually dragging them to Harry’s waiting gaze and—

His knees damn near buckle, he barely stops the sob of relief that almost shred its way from his vocal chords. Fuck, everyone disappears as Harry kind on leans forward on his perch on Liam’s desktop. He doesn’t even realize that Niall is waving at him or that Louis had entered until he speaks.

‘Hazza?’ he questions causing the aforementioned to break the stare. He nods silently just like Zayn had.

It’s silent then. Zayn doesn’t even try to speak because he’s trying to comprehend what he’s feeling. It was like he was feeling everything he normally felt with Harry, but not entirely from the bond. He could feel the confusion jumbled in with Harry’s scattered emotions _through_ the bond but its like it was pouring off his skin now.  

Like the bond was now amplified with unjust high definition. He looks back up to Harry for confirmation that he feels it too, when he notices his head swinging back and forth between…Liam and Louis; a slow smile creeping onto his lips when his gaze settles on Louis.

‘Payback,’ Harry dimples. ‘This is brilliant. Now you’ll understand. D’you need me to fetch you some tampons—’

‘Shut up, Harry.’ is all Louis says, eyes still glued to Liam’s.

‘I’m sorry,’ Liam stutters, ‘I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.’

‘No we have not,’ Louis turns to blink at Harry, ‘Harold.’

‘What?’

‘Do the honours.’

Zayn could feel that his mate was overtly basking in whatever was happening, ‘maybe you should ask nicely.’

‘ _Harry.’_

The vampire snorts before turning to Liam, ‘this is my maker, Louis Tomlinson. Louis this is my comrade, Liam Payne.’

Zayn doesn’t know what to pay attention to. The joy on Harry’s face, the entranced look over Lou and Liam’s, or the gasp that they emit when their hands touch in a motionless handshake.

‘This is—this seems like a weird place to be right now.’ Niall decides causing Erik to exhale in agreement.

‘Yeh, its like we aren’t even here. I’m going for a caffeine fix.’

It’s a moment after Niall and Erik are finally gone when Zayn finally looks down at Louis and Liam’s hands still grasped and asks, ‘what’s happening?’

Harry turns to him when words served the other two ill, ‘Cant you tell?’

Zayn almost losses himself in Harry’s happy smile but he looks over at the ridiculously tranquil expression Louis and Liam shared and…..Ohhh.

The hunter beams right back while reaching over to cup Louis’s shoulder, ‘Congrats Lou,’

Liam was blinking like he was having trouble staying upright …or conscious, ‘sorry I don’t know what’s—what’s happening here?’

‘Nothing terrible,’ Harry assures as he pins his maker with a hard stare, ‘just that Louis’s your bitch now.’

_‘HAROLD!’_

‘I think I may have to lie down for a bit,’ Liam sways, hand still clasped in Louis’.

Zayn exhales as Harry and Louis move to steady him, ‘You should probably do that in the break room Lee…are you drunk?’

Harry chuckles and lifts his gaze to Zayn, ‘As soon as he heard about you he wanted to get back to England, more specifically the V.E.C., the quickest way possible so I ran him. All the way here on my back.’ He pats at Liam’s arm, ‘whiplash hasn’t worn off. Louis take him to the nearest couch would you?’

‘Wait,’ Liam drawls as Louis leads him away gently, ‘am I being kicked out of my own office? Zayn? Harry?’

‘Just a little longer, love, and we can get you some rest—’

‘If you two destroy my office in a scrap, I’m gonna personally hunt both of you myself.’

‘—lemon tea. Maybe even some sweet bread.’ Louis finishes patiently before turning them out the door. Zayn walks over to close it and its like the outside world just shuts off. And its glorious. His knees really do fail as he sort slumps forward onto the door, body sagging and singing in that moment.

God it was like Harry was _in_ his skin.

‘Louis wont hurt him. He was never that breed of vampire, if that’s what’s worrying you.’ Harry mumbles quietly, ‘besides he’s too enchanted by Liam to consider it. They’ll be just as bad as you and I soon.’

Zayn turns to press his back to the door causing the shades to hiss. When his eyes lands on his mate all he can think about is melding himself to Harry’s chest. His mouth watering at the fragrance of honeysuckle and morning dew that always wafted off his tanned skin….but it was the blood underneath it that smelled…indescribable.

Harry exhales a laugh drawing Zayn eyes to the defined abdominal muscles under his t-shirt. ‘You’re intentionally blocking me out so I cant feel you…I’m not sure if you’re still angry with me….’

_Keep quiet_ , he thinks.

Harry lifts off the desk and starts to pace, ‘look I never planned anything that’s happened. I never touched your family, Zayn. I just wanted to keep you safe. I know now that leaving you be…removing myself from the situation probably would have been better for you. But I told you…as soon as you’re near your mate, the bond starts to form regardless of your choice, though I could’ve attempted…it’s not easy to fight off.’

He stays quiet.

‘I never meant to hurt anyone. I mean I should have never removed you from your family that way…it was selfish. Leaving you alone like that had they really perished that night,’ Harry swivels to a stop and looks at Zayn earnestly. ‘I’ve actually hurt you more than I protected.’

‘Harry,’ he says lowly, ‘as much as you think I don’t understand I actually do. Don’t you think that if the situation were reversed I would do the exact same for you?’

‘But.’

‘I don’t need an apology for that.’

‘Zayn the entire reason your family was targeted was because of my father. It still comes down to—’

‘Your father is dead. My family is alive. You are nowhere near responsible for his actions.’

Harry shrinks a little as Zayn’s legs carry him towards his mate, ‘then….?’

‘I’ve heard that relationships are built on trust. I need to know that I can trust you Harry.’

Desperation boomerangs between their link, ‘of course you can.’

‘That means no more secrets. No more lying.’ He clarifies when he stops a few inches from Harry.

‘If that’s what you what.’

‘So you wont lie to me anymore?’

‘’Course.’

Zayn smirks while wagging a finger, ‘that was a lie.’

He can feel Harry grasping at him through their bond, ‘how ’bout I only lie to you when I feel you need to hear it.’

‘No.’

‘So no more sarcasm?’

‘No…that’s allowed.’

‘That’s LYING!’

‘Alright, fine, just no more secrecy, yeah? As a secret agent I can positively tell you it becomes habitual.’

Harry scoffs. ‘The majority of humans haven’t a clue that vampires even exist so don’t preach to me about secrecy….but you’ve got a deal.’

Zayn smiles taking Harry’s outstretched hand and shaking it before linking their fingers. He knows he’ll be able to tell if Harry were lying to him not only because of their bond, but because he knows Harry well enough now to tell. He just needed his word that he wouldn’t intentionally keep Zayn in the dark.

Harry moves to link their other fingers as well, sighing when the skin of their palms connect. ‘So…what happens now?’

‘Come here.’ he breathes into the sliver of space between them, but he’s pulling Harry to him before he could oblige.

Harry hums into the kiss as the pain in Zayn’s chest snaps out with a fizzle when he molds himself to Harry’s front. It’s more than he imagined before, the taste of Harry’s mouth now, warm and inviting like hot chocolate or melted caramel; a fresh waft of Harry’s blood filling his nose with every change in angle.

He frees a hand to tangle into the chocolate spirals at the nape of Harry’s neck and delves his tongue in to taste every inch of his mouth, shuddering along with his mate when he swipes the muscle over Harry’s lengthening fangs and pulls back to scrap his own over the plump his reddened bottom lip.

Shit. Everything about him, watching Harry collect himself, that signature dent creased there between his eyebrows, his sweet breath, his siren blood, the fragrance of his arousal. Everything was causing Zayn to feel like he was about to burn through his skin. ‘You’re fucking addictive, you know that?’

Harry whines before opening his eyes again, ‘more kissing, less talking.’

Zayn meets him in the middle, but lets him take the lead when he starts push Zayn until his back meets the metal of file cabinet next to Liam’s closet. His legs trembling, at the wet heat on the shell of his ear, before Harry hoists them around his waist.

His heart sounds slower now, thick and heavy like a normal humans as he tilts his head up to give Harry tongue room ’cause fuck, ‘I’ve missed this. Missed you.’

Harry purrs in the midst of squeezing Zayn’s bum and grounding their groins together when the hunter’s mouth latches onto his throat. Zayn treats his tastebuds to the flavors of his mate’s skin before allowing his blunt human teeth to dig into the flesh, and the groan Harry makes…its so aroused, so heady that Zayn couldn’t tell if the pleasure was Harry’s or his own.

Harry shivers, fingers spreading the globes of his ass through his loose jeans, before Zayn feels the room spin and his feet hit the floor. He opens his eyes to meet the green ones already boring into his. ‘Do you trust me?’

Zayn’s tongue is swiping over his lips to capture the fragrance of Harry’s breath, ‘I do.’

Harry allows Zayn to claim his lips and then tilts his head up a bit, ‘good. Now bite me.’

The hesitance, the pause, Zayn expects to feel doesn’t come at all when he immediately leans in to paint love bites on the unmarred parcel that was the juncture of Harry’s neck, and he’s moaning into it because Harry really wasn’t kidding about all the, ‘fuck, you smell good.’

Harry merely grunts his reply after the hands he had placed on Zayn’s hips tug him closer, breath shuddering at Zayn dragging his open mouth along the line of his throat. But he wavers when it occurs to him….

_How does this work?_ He’s thinking to himself.

Harry hums above his ear, a newly placed hand carding through his raven hair. _Don’t force it. Once you know what you want everything’ll come naturally._

He pulls back to catch Harry’s heavy lidded gaze with a raised brow.

He smiles, ‘a perk between maker and child. I’ll always know when you’re troubled blah-blah-blah. I’ll explain this later just—Zayn please?’

The hunter obediently places a sweet kiss to his throat remembering just how much of a neck thing Harry has. ‘You’ve never been fed on before?’

Harry shakes his head.

‘Not even a knick?’ tongue flicking at the skin below Harry’s ear who grunts this time when he shakes his head. ‘Then you’re going to enjoy this.’

Going with this sudden boost of confidence Zayn simply inhales the sweet scent of his blood deeply, decides he wants to taste it and then his canines are sliding pass the inside of his gums as his fangs elongate and its…. probably not even the weirdest thing he’ll feel today.

Harry squirms as Zayn noses over his pulse pound before taking a breath and going for it; fangs breaking the skin like knife through butter and then on impulse he’s sucking down the substance as soon as it hits his tongue, moaning at the extravagant taste of it. Because it was like drinking a liquefied orgasm, adding to the ones his tongue and throat seemed to be having.

He’d been so caught up in trying to make this experience great for Harry he had forgotten to think about his own, how he may react to it, but Harry was….Harry was fine. Well, at least he thinks because the bond is muddled and dirtied with the tinge of blood, but the noises he pushes out at the ceiling are nowhere near pain induced.

Tiny breathy broken off versions of Zayn’s name are falling from his lips and then as he’s gulping down his mate’s offering, Harry’s engorged length becomes evident in the crease of Zayn’s hipbone. He doesn’t even falter, tongue swiping at the cords in Harry’s throat where blood managed to leak, hand quick and merciless as it goes for the belt of his trousers and tugging at the base of his dick as soon he finds it.

That’s when Harry’s filter seems to sort of blow because all the new and old English, proper words he learned and used for almost two centuries are replaced with…it seems like every filthy utterance that comes to mind.

He twist his fist over Harry’s shaft and, ‘Fuck! Fucking fuck that’s... _hngh._ ’

Zayn’s so caught up in multitasking that he doesn’t realize Harry’s gone quiet, word-wise, until pleasure slams into him so hard that his knees fold. Harry’s hand only speeds on his cock as endorphins course throughout his body with every tug of blood Harry drew from the side of Zayn’s exposed neck.

And it’s hasty and hotter than it ever would be doing this in the heat of passion with a 99.9% chance of getting caught. Since makeup sex is by far the best, but this was painful for Zayn’s ego because he wasn’t lasting long…nope not with how much his body screams for release with every brush of their knuckles, not with Harry’s muffled groans reverberating on his throat or the way he keeps thumbing at his slit like that—

Oh fuck yes…

Even though his vision is threatening to mimic the cum Harry’s fist coaxes out of him, he swipes his tongue over the punctures on Harry’s throat before suctioned the skin under it into his mouth and strips his length until Harry’s moans morph into mewls and he doubling over with his release like Zayn has punched him thrice over in the gut.

He watches the rugged moan that accompanies it when it leaves Harry’s open mouth with undisguised orgasm hazed satisfaction. His softening cock twitching in Harry’s loose fist. ‘Gorgeous.’

Harry lifts his lashes, the dent Zayn’s has been so fascinated with deepening with the intensity of his stare, Zayn watches a thin trail of blood slide down Harry’s chin and then their lips are connected once more, tongues swirling as they present one another with the taste of each other.

‘We should fight more. Just not in Liam’s office.’ Harry drawls after pulling back. ‘He’ll be murderous if he finds us making up like this.’

He didn’t want to talk about Liam, ‘I don’t care.’ he says. He was planning on taking advantage of this. After all he was dead serious about finding out which tasted better. He drops to his knees, smiling when Harry shimmies his waist to help him tug down his pants even though there’s a frown there on Harry’s lips…albeit dopy.

‘What’re you doin’?’

‘Compare and contrast,’ he says stroking through the slick on Harry’s cock before wrapping his lips around the shaft, not even pausing with the door to the office clicks as the knob turns, ‘Jesus Christ!’ a decidedly more sober sounding Liam screams before the door closes with a sharp slam.

‘IN MY OFFICE!?!?!’ he continues to bellow as he storms away causing the moan leaving Harry’s mouth to turn into a giggle.

His raspy voice, deepened by arousal, rings through Zayn’s mind clear as day as he knocks his head back against the metal cabinet.

_Sorry Liam._

But really not in the least bit because his hands are combing gently through Zayn’s hair, dick twitching over his tongue, and as Zayn gets a grip around his own stiffening erection he finally decides that between the flavor of Harry’s cum and blood, he fancied both. Preferably all at once.

 

**< ><>><<><> **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> epilogue up next. babes xX.


	20. Epilogue: Coalesce

**< ><>><<><> **

**THE V.E.C.** continues to stand as a harbor for human justice and protection against the violent nature of the undead. Despite the anarchism the company suffered with the rebellion of order by Thomas Pfaff’s hand, The Board restored organization to the likes what it was before the incident. Later in the year, the vote was unanimous to name Liam Payne as the head commissioner for the city of London’s district V.E.C. Corporation.  

 

<><>><<><> 

**Thomas Pfaff** is irrelevant. After admitting to being partly responsible for the scheme the late Vampire King pulled, he was locked up in the tunnels of the scientific ward never to see the natural light of day again. Unfortunately he truly was in love with Zayn Malik in his own sick way; he was convinced that after the Vampire King had killed Harry he would have Zayn for himself. He hasn’t seen neither Harry nor Zayn since his confinement.

 

<><>><<><> 

**Mary Ann Patts** , as it turns out, was in perfect health to carry a child. During the middle of her pregnancy, her first love, Gregory Manton, moved into her home as soon as she helped the Malik’s move into a safe neighbourhood not far from her own. A couple days after they settled, she called Zayn early in the morning to tell him she had woken up to an engagement ring on her finger.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

**Yaser Malik** had originally decided he was going to retire out of working any kind of job, but as a veteran V.E.C. mogul he was offered a great deal of compensation for his ethics to make the world a safer place for humans to live. After settling down with his family, he finally accepted Liam’s offer and agreed to work a non demanding job as a scientist. After a couple of months he realized that Niall Horan was his biggest supporter, and that with taking his advice and staying near him, he saw his son nearly everyday. And that’s just on the job.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

**Niall Horan** rejoiced at working closely with the man who had allegedly created some of the V.E.C.’s greatest gadgets and tools. As the an engineer making a name for himself he continues to learn anything he can from Yaser Malik, while teaching the old man how the new world works in the land of containing pesky bloodsuckers. A couple months after he took Yaser under his wing, field agents brought in a feisty black haired female vamp that had stopped struggling the minute she entered Niall’s space. As soon as Niall realized he was seeing stars and rainbow coloured cherubs he knew _exactly_ what was happening.

 

<><>><<><> 

 

**Zayn Malik** was born a contradiction. Quiet; still as a stone when it came to defending himself, but strident whenever he chased after the things he feared most in the world; particularly when the chase is for someone else. It’s the entire reason why he didn’t run off to Russia with his mate instead of continuing to fight for innocents. Well that and the fact that he couldn’t possibly ditch his family when he just got them back or quit his line of duty just because he accomplished his goal.

Liam wouldn’t let him either way since vampires were becoming more and more an asset than an enemy. Zayn decided he’d continue to train rookie agents and to pair up with Erik Henrick as a field agent whenever they truly needed him. As he spends frequent time with his family and his relationship with his mate grows ever stronger, starting one of his own is beginning to weigh heavily on his mind. He blames Mary Ann.

 

<><>><<><> 

**Harry Styles** chose to accept when he was offered a job more permanent than being a vampire consultant. He kipped over at Zayn’s after they had left Liam’s office and hasn’t slept anywhere else officially since. Taking everything he had learned from being Louis’ first vampire child, he spends the majority of his time teaching his mate how to cope with the world as a newborn while learning from Zayn how to live freely in the world outside of V.E.C. Corp. without being a wanted fugitive any longer.

Inseparable from his mate half the time, he was easily received as a member of Yaser’s circle and adored by the rest of the family. He doesn’t even flinch when Perrie comes round to visit; in fact they’re on respectable speaking terms.

Harry is currently Tetsuo’s favorite thing to pounce on whenever they come through the front door when they go home.

 

<><>><<><>  

 

**Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson** confirmed to the rest of their circle that they were in fact mates. Not wanting to rush into anything rashly, they decided not to bond in any way that wasn’t already naturally done since their meeting. Liam of his own freewill wanted to get to know Louis truly before letting him mark him and eventually turn him. Louis, smitten out of what was left of his mind, only wanted what made Liam happy.

In simpler terms he was definitely Liam’s bitch.

Not only as Louis’s mate, but as head commissioner for the district of London’s V.E.C. Corp, keeping around the current vampire who holds reign over all the others was in his best interest; though none of that excuses all the… snogging.

It became more than logical to band together the power of their labels when the time came for it. The Board voiced no objections against the vampires and hunters merging together; instead they voted to dismiss the rule that every single vampire captured by V.E.C. agents be automatically sentenced to life in the scientific holding ward where termination was almost always endgame.

With the disquieting knowledge that there are vampires out there like Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles and now Zayn Malik, every one of them obtained a right to prove they are indeed divergent from the mounting faction of vampires that kill, not just for the blood, but for the hell of it.

Since they were once human and a bit of that could still be somewhere within them, they now had a choice.

 

**< ><>><<><> **

THE END

 

**< ><>><<><> **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you guys believe me if I said this was the only true thing I’ve ever accomplished aside from graduation? This fic is very special to me and the fact that you guys read it and loved it and hated it and noticed it in general makes me very happy. To everyone. Everyone who has been there from the beginning and was here to see it end I thank you thoroughly from the bottom of my tiny heart. To everyone who commented on this fic. You are my inspiration and I was serious about never finishing something this big like... ever. I finished this for us so this chapter is to actually chatting with you all on a new fic of mine in the near or far future.
> 
> Cheers! 
> 
> Big love
> 
> —S
> 
>  
> 
> You can also come say hi on my Tumblr [@draconianpotterhead](http://draconianpotterhead.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse mistakes. My brain moves faster than my fingers. Also if you want come give me a yell on [Tumblr x.](http://draconianpotterhead.tumblr.com/)


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